W. Pett Ridge, Mord Em'ly — Chapter 16 (1898)
“ The infant Highlander had eaten some of the sugared bun, and had also contrived to paste a good deal of it on his cheeks. When this had been remedied, and his costume had been shaken into something like order, Mord Em'ly rose. The Highlander ran across the avenue, kicked his friend the boatswain, and returned to sanctuary. "Good afternoon!" she said. "No, you don't," remarked Wetherell brusquely. "You ain't going like that. Don't you flatter yourself." ”
