"'Cause you've Been hurt in the war, or else you're sick from the
cake."

"Pooh! a little bit of cake like _that_ wouldn't make _me_ sick.
You've got to give me a _lot_ more if you want me to be real sick."

"Oh, Teddy Martin! I'm not going to play if you make fun like that
all the while. You've got to groan and pretend you've been shot.
Never mind about the cake."

"All right. I'll be shot then. But you've got to give me a lot of
chocolate pills to make me get better."

"I'm not going to give 'em to you all at once, Ted Martin!"

"Well, maybe in two doses then. How many are there?"

"Oh, there's a lot. I'm going to take some myself."

"You are not!" and Teddy sat up so quickly that he hit the top of
the sheet-tent with his head and made it slide from the chair.

"There! Look what you did!" cried Janet. "Now you've gone and
spoiled everything!"

"Oh, well, I'll fix it," said Ted, rather sorry for what he had
done. "But you can't eat my chocolate pills."

"I can so!"