"Bunty, you're a pig," sighed Meg, looking up from her book.
She always read at the table, and this particular story was
about some very refined, elegant girls.
"Pig yourself all of you've had fowl but me, you greedy things!"
retorted Bunty fiercely, and eating, his potato very fast.
"No, the General hasn't," said Judy and the old mischief light
sprang up suddenly into her dark eyes.
"Now, Judy!" said Meg warningly; she knew too well what that
particular sparkle meant.
"Oh, I'm not going to hurt you, you dear old thing," said Miss Judy,
dancing down the room and bestowing a pat on her sister's fair head
as she passed. "It's only the General, who's after havin' a bit
o' fun."
She lifted him up out of the high chair, where he had been sitting
drumming on the table with a spoon and eating sugar in the
intervals.
"It's real action you're going for to see, General," she said,
dancing to the door with him.
"Oh, Judy, what are you going to do?" said Meg entreatingly.
"Ju-Ju!" crowed the General, leaping almost out of Judy's arms,
and scenting fun with the instinct of a veteran.
Down the passage they went, the other five behind to watch
proceedings.
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