"Mud, Aunt 'Ria?"

"Yes, dear, dusty as it is now, at some seasons of the year the roads
are so muddy that you might lose off your overshoes if it were not for
the large beams which bridge over the crossings."

"That reminds me," said Mr. Parlin, "of the man who was seen sinking in
the mud, and, when some one offered to help him out, he replied,
cheerfully, 'O, I shall get through; I have a horse under me.'"

"Why, was the horse 'way down out of sight, papa?"

"Where was the hossy, Uncle Eddard?"

"It was only a story, children. If the man said there was a horse under
him, it was a figure of speech, which we call hyperbole; he only meant
to state in a funny way that the mud was excessively deep."

"Is it right to tell hyperblees, papa? Because Jennie Vance tells them a
great deal. I didn't know the name of them before."

"No, Alice, it is not right to tell untrue things expecting to be
believed--of course not."

"Well, _she_ isn't believed. Nobody s'poses her mamma made a bushel of
currant wine last summer, unless it's a baby, that doesn't know any
better."

"_I_ knows better. I'se a goorl, and can walk," said little Katie,
bridling.