peter

Uncle Peter stood in a flood of light at the door of his room.

"There's enough like that kind, though," interrupted Uncle Peter.

In the simpler phrasing of Uncle Peter Bines, he will "cut loose."

But Uncle Peter had already put in some hard winters, and was not wanting in fortitude.

He was busy almost half an hour, while Uncle Peter smoked in silence.

This cop that found me in a hallway, he says I must have been give a dose of Peter.

When he came out ten minutes later Uncle Peter was waiting for him alone.

Why, of course not, Uncle Peter; only I had to look around some at first,—for a year or so.

"Hum," remarked Uncle Peter, in a tone to be noticed for its extreme dryness.

Uncle Peter had first declared that the thought of food sickened him.