"Ribbons! I am to buy yarn, and some particular brand of lye for
soap."

"Lye! How do you make soap out of lye?"

"You save all the "--William hesitated for a sufficiently delicate
word--"the--fat, you know, in the kitchen, and then you make soft
soap."

"Why! I didn't know that was how soap was made."

"I'm glad you didn't," said William King. "I mean--it's disagreeable,"
he ended weakly. And then, to David's open joy, he said good-by and
jogged off down the hill, leaving Mrs. Richie to her new
responsibilities of discipline.

"Now, David, come here. I've got to scold you."

David promptly climbed up into the swing and settled himself in her
lap. Then he snuggled his little nose down into her neck. "I'm a
bear," he announced. "I'm eating you. Now, you scream and I'll roar."

"Oh, David, you little monkey! Listen to me: you weren't very polite
to Dr. King."

"O-o-o-o-o-o!" roared the bear.

"You should make him feel you were glad to see him."

"I wasn't," mumbled David.