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"He's as spry as a squirrel," said Grasshopper, in admiration; "how many boughs has he got? One, two, three." "Me say 'em quickest," cried little Wampum. "Een, teen, teddery, peddery, bimp, satter, latter, doe, dommy, dick." "That's ten," put in Horace, who was keeping 'count.
"Well," replied Horace, "they aren't mine." "O, yes. Ugh! you've got 'em. Melon-water good! Me have melon-waters, me give you moc-suns." "I'll ask my grandpa, Wampum." Hereupon the crafty little Indian shook his head. "You ask ole man, me no give you moc-suns! Me no want een me want bimp bumpin jiggets." Horace's stout little heart wavered for a moment. He fancied moccasins very much.
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