You and my other uncle can do a great deal for me, if you please, with my papa.
There was nothing like that in Connie Hancock's Papa's house.
Papa was the Pussycat and she was the little mouse in her hole under the bed-clothes.
"He's no business to behave as if it was Papa's fault," said Harriett.
Your papa and I wish you to say nothing whatever about it to any one.