"Well, I wonder!  Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean by Sid being here."

"Well, I never got 'em, Sis."

Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says:

"You, Tom!"

"Well—_what_?" he says, kind of pettish.

"Don't you what _me_, you impudent thing—hand out them letters."

"What letters?"

"_Them_ letters.  I be bound, if I have to take a-holt of you I'll—"

"They're in the trunk.  There, now.  And they're just the same as they was when I got them out of the office.  I hain't looked into them, I hain't touched them.  But I knowed they'd make trouble, and I thought if you warn't in no hurry, I'd—"

"Well, you _do_ need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it.  And I wrote another one to tell you I was coming; and I s'pose he—"

"No, it come yesterday; I hain't read it yet, but _it's_ all right, I've got that one."

I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn't, but I reckoned maybe it was just as safe to not to.  So I never said nothing.