an', say, mother, I don't _believe_ you're a young lady stenographer an'
typewriter. You're just trying to fool me."

"Well, Miss Smarty, supposin' I am. So long's I don't succeed you've no
kick comin'."

"Say, now listen, mother."

"Hush! You'll wake the pretty lady. Besides, too many questions before
dinner is apt to spoil the appetite, to say nothin' of the temper. Turn
to, an' lend a hand with them potatoes. Smash 'em good first, an' then
beat 'em with a fork until they're light an' creamy, an' you won't have
so much gimp left for snoopin' into things that don't concern you!"

"Say, now listen, mother!"

"Well?"

"Say, mother, something awful funny happened to me last night?"

"Are you tellin' what it was?"

"Something woke me up in the middle of the night, 'n' I got up out of
bed, an' the clock struck four, 'n' then I knew it was mornin'. 'N' I
heard a noise, 'n' I thought it was robbers, 'n' I went to the door, 'n'
it was open, 'n' I went out into the hall, 'n'--"

"Well?"

"An' there was _you_, mother, on the stairs--kneelin'!"