Uncle Peter stood in a flood of light at the door of his room.
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.
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.
He took his uncle up in his strong arms, and moved toward the stairs.
You wouldn't turn out your sister's son, would you, Uncle Paul?
Uncle Peter had first declared that the thought of food sickened him.
When he finished, he said, "Now tell me where you keep your vegetables, Uncle Paul?"
