unearths some literary gems.
From Dead Ernest, by Alice Tilton:
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Within five minutes she had the pair back on the doorstep, and after another minute of fervent you-must-come-over-ing on the part of the young man, the two started down the walk with the goldfish, the mussels, and the butter.
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“They might take it into their respective heads to check up on my pumpkins, in which they took an almost morbid interest. I did all the wrong things, but mine pumpkined and their didn’t, or words to that effect.”
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“Runner-overs, that’s what they are!” Mrs. Mullet shook her head. “That’s their kind. They won’t be borrowing us out of house and home like the Haverstraws, but they’ll be running in, running out, all the time!”
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“Mr. Witherall!” Her face, when she looked up at him, was wreathed in smiles. “Why, Mr. With-erall! Mis-ter With-erall!”
***
“You must stave them off [....] Say over and over again that you are at a loss to understand things. There’s nothing more time consuming than being at a loss.”
