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"Dey's boun' to git up a 'batin'-soci'ty an' talk all de evening w'en dere was Paublo Johnson standin' up all de evenin' from stiffness he cotched from ole man Geiger's goat, an', hit's a fac', he stan' an' 'scuss de question, tryin' to make outen how de goat kicked him, all kase he's on de on side. But dat's de coon of it."
This astonishing statement elicited a laugh even from Aunt Polly, but presently she said: "Wa'al, I'm glad you found one man that would stan' you off on Sunday." "Yes'm," said her brother, "'Lizer 's jest your kind. I knew 't he'd hurt his foot, an' prob'ly couldn't go to meetin', an' sure enough, he was settin' on the stoop, an' I drove in an' pulled up in the lane alongside.
A chill ran through his veins, when he thought of the full ones. What do you suppose he did? He pulled a worn-out knife blade from his belt, and began to scratch the earth around the well with it. "What are you doing?" asked the dragon. "I'm not a blockhead, that I should go to the labor of filling the skins with water," replied Stan. "But how will you carry the water to the house, then?" "How?
I thought the old fool would throw a fit, he was so enraged. So, good-bye to Nephew Stanley!" "Look here, Mr. Oscar; that's no good, you know," remonstrated Pelman. "What's the good of throwing Johnson into jail for five or ten days or perhaps only a fine? He may even have letters from Stan to some one else in Vesper, some one influential; he may beat the case.
There was the Bald'in, stand-by old and good as bread; and there were all the rest. We know them, we who have courted Pomona in her fair New England orchards. Near the fancy-work table sat Mrs. Blair, of the Old Ladies' Home, on a stool she had wrenched from an unwilling boy, who declared it belonged up in the Academy, whence he had brought it "to stan' on" while he drove a nail.
Knocking his block off won't help you any," Stan said as he released the major's arms. "There ought to be better ways." "I'm sorry," the major said stiffly. The German glared around him. He puffed out his chest and struck a stiff pose. "You are to be moved to other quarters. Anyone trying any sneaking business will be shot. Is dot clear?" "It's clear. Get on with the moving," Stan said crisply.
"She's got on her black alpaca," said she. "She's comin' to spend the day!" David answered her look with one of commiseration, and, gathering up his wrench and oil, "put for" the barn. "I'd stay, if I could do any good," he said hastily, "but I can't. I might as well stan' from under." Debby threw her empty carpet-bag over the stone wall, and followed it, clambering slowly and painfully.
"Rotten inside with half of the guards scared they'll be stood up against a wall and shot when the invasion comes." "They didn't seem to be slipping much where we landed," Stan said. "But they are," Sim insisted. "I have a man fixed to take me out of here and across Germany. I'm to get him out of the country and guarantee he'll be safely kept over in England." "Swell," O'Malley put in.
Stan was glad the bed of the cart had a ten-inch high board around it. After more shouting and poking the driver got back on his seat and the cart moved forward. "Boy," Stan muttered. "That was a close shave." "I got a small cut," Sim said. "And you didn't yell?" O'Malley spoke admiringly. "It would have been the end for us if I had yelled," Sim answered. The cart continued to jog along slowly.
"An' then," continues Ezra in his revery, "when the last hymn is given out an' we stan' up agin an' join the choir, I am glad to see that Laura is singin' outer the book with Miss Hubbard, the alto. An' goin' out o' meetin' I kind of edge up to Laura and ask her if I kin have the pleasure of seein' her home. "An' now we boys all go out on the Common to play ball.
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