Mrs. Pearson felled down at Sunday School today acause she beed wearin' fancy clicky shoes an' she don't knows how to walk in 'em so good. Which, that prawly could a beed a terrible thing; 'cept for she looked like a circus lady when she goed down. An' plus, me an' Clive an' Scabby all seen  her undies. Clive sayed, hey fellas, look like Mrs. Pearson have stoled our club-house tent! Scabby sayed, unh, unh, Clive, she gots a double-wide under that dress for sures. Well, we was laughin' on our own selves acause we bees so funny, an' I tole the boys, we sure as shootin' could have a big party in Mrs. Pearson's pants! Which, that kinda beed jus' plain gross astead a funny, an' we all goed quiet acauase a the ugly picture we gotted sticked in our brains. An' plus, Mrs. Pearson heared me, so she beed yellin' on me all a ways inside; madder 'an a donkey full a ticks. She bees limpin' now. I is still prayin' at all a holy saints or angels or some-the-nother-body for to derase the Mrs. Pearson Pants Party outta my head.