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The poor old thing was so nearsighted and absent-minded along toward the last that they say he used to hire Noah Myrick's boy to come in and look him over every Sunday mornin' before church, so's to be sure he hadn't got his wig on stern foremost. That's the way Zeb Mayo tells the yarn, anyhow." They left the house and came out into the wet mist.
"Ned," said Tom sternly, "go to the office and call the police. I'll make him tell why he was here. And I'll make the Blatz people explain, too. Hullo! what's that?" Ned had seized the rope he had seen in Myrick's hand, and from a patch of weeds drew a two-gallon oil-can. "What you got there, Ned?" repeated the young inventor. "Whatever it is, I am going to be mighty easy with it.
When he doesn't behave he forfeits the privilege. Kendrick, you hear me! Go back." "But I don't want to go back, Ros. If I do I'll have to go clear round by Myrick's, two mile out of my way." "You should have thought of that before you brought that crowd with you. I won't have this Lane made a public nuisance by any one. Zeb, I'm ashamed of you." Zeb turned to his passengers.
Had one of my cooks aboard put raisins in the flapjacks once, just to see what they tasted like. I judged Heman had had his own way in this town for thirty odd year. I kind of wanted to see what would happen if he didn't have it." Lemuel Myrick's painting jobs have the quality so prized by our village small boys in the species of candy called "jaw breakers," namely, that of "lasting long."
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