At Sunday School today Mrs. Pearson been teachin' us what we's all soldiers in the Army of the Lord. If we gots enimas, we oughta march on out there and kill 'em with kindness; she sayed that bees our weapon. So I been kind to Clive when he sayed, George, may I has that milk-bone yous eatin'? I sayed, why, sure, Clive; and I gived it to him. But then when I axed Clive, may I has my milk-bone back now? He sayed no. Now I bees thinkin' on lookin' for some kind thing to crack him over hims head with.