I turned upon him. I had endured "terrapin-buzzards," hurled at the group by my woman child, perceiving need of relief for her pent-up passion. I had, moreover, for the same reason, permitted my namesake to roll under his tongue the formidable and satisfying expletive, "John B. Gough!" But I felt that the line must be drawn at Gamboge. Terrapin-buzzards was bad enough, though it was true that this might be used innocently, as in a moment of mild dismay, or as an exclamation of mere astonishment without sinister import. But Gamboge!--and ripped out brazenly as it had been?--No! A thousand times No! "Calvin," I said sternly, "aren't you ashamed to use such language--before me--and before your little sister?" But here the little sister sank beneath her true woman's level by saying:-- "I know worse than that--Dut!" With a look of deadly coldness I sought to chill the pride that shone in her eyes as she achieved this new enormity. "What is 'Dut'?" I asked severely. "Dut is--is _a_ Dut," she answered, somewhat abashed by my want of enthusiasm. "A Dut is a baddix--a regular baddix," volunteered her brother. Following a device familiar to philologists, he submitted concrete examples. "Two of those Sullivans are Duts, and so's Mrs. Sullivan sometimes when she makes me split kindling and let the cat alone and--" "That will do," I said; "that's enough of such talk. Come right into the house." "It ain't a baddix to say 'O Crackers!'" he observed tentatively, as he followed us. "It may not be for some people," I answered. "Nice people might say that once in a great while, on week-days, if they never said any other baddixes; but it's just as bad as any of them if you say all the others--especially that horrible one--" "Gamboge," he reminded me, brightly. "Never mind saying it again!" Then came a new uproar from the wagon-box. We perceived that the train had moved off again, manned now entirely by Sullivans. They sought, I detected, to produce in our minds an impression that the thing was going better than ever. The toots of the Sullivan-throated whistle were louder and more frequent, and the voice of the largest could be plainly heard. He had combined the two offices of train-boy and conductor. We heard him alternately demanding "Tickets!" and urging "Peanuts, cakes, and candies!" If the intention had been to lure us back to witness a Sullivan triumph, it failed. We shut our lips tightly and moved around to the front porch.