"Yes; don't talk so loud. That's the court-house."

"Where they make court-plaster at?" inquired Tommy shrilly.

Lovey Mary glanced around uneasily. She hoped the old man in the
corner had not heard this benighted remark. All went well until the
car reached the terminal station. Here Tommy refused to get off. In
vain Lovey Mary coaxed and threatened.

"It'll take us right back to the home," she pleaded. "Be a good boy
and come with Lovey. I'll buy you something nice."

Tommy remained obdurate. He believed in letting well enough alone. The
joys of a street-car ride were present and tangible; "something nice"
was vague, unsatisfying.

"Don't yer little brother want to git off?" asked the conductor,
sympathetically.

"No, sir," said Lovey Mary, trying to maintain her dignity while she
struggled with her charge. "If you please, sir, would you mind holding
his feet while I loosen his hands?"

Tommy, shrieking indignant protests, was borne from the car and
deposited on the sidewalk.

"Don't you dare get limber!" threatened Lovey Mary. "If you do I'll
spank you right here on the street. Stand up! Straighten out your
legs! Tommy! do you hear me?"