Aunt Polly. There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?
Aunt Polly. Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that truck?
Tom. I don't know, aunt.
Aunt Polly. Bother! I was sure you'd been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're better'n you look.