Your toenails are growing, boy; soon you'd qualify to live in the wild among the tigers.
They cut through your socks, boy. Pity the way you are wasting my hard earned money, as if they grew on trees. It has just been a month. And you've already shredded your socks. I bought them for a hundred and fifty rupees, Byford, thinking that it will at least last six months. One day, when you have to earn your bread, you'll realize. I'd rather you had shredded your toenails rather than your socks.
Stop making that face, boy, it ain't funny I tell you. Soon your toe nails will cut throug your shoes. I tell you, its about to happen. And this time I ain't buying it for you. You'll have to wear the torn shoes if that happens, remember.
Some day I'm going to beat the blues out of you. Its three days since you had it last. Missing the rod it seems.
Ah! When will this brute learn.