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"Do you smoke, child?" "When I get 'old of a cigaroot I do." "I'm sorry I can't oblige you. I don't smoke cigarettes." "Then I'll 'ave to 'ave one of my own," said Albert moodily. He reached into the mysteries of his pocket and produced a piece of string, a knife, the wishbone of a fowl, two marbles, a crushed cigarette, and a match.
The stove lifter, the match box and all the other objects watched him with interest as he strutted back and forth. At last the new object stood still and with his head thrown back he said: "I am a wish-bone, but as none of you know what a wishbone is, I shall tell you! A wishbone is an object of great importance in this world.
"I'm afraid so," I acknowledged at last. "If only Peg Bowen had been at home she could have found him for us," asserted Peter. "Her skull would have told her where he was." "I wonder if the wishbone she gave me would have done any good," cried Cecily suddenly. "I'd forgotten all about it. Oh, do you suppose it's too late yet?" "There's nothing in a wishbone," said Dan impatiently.
Then Chief Woodpecker approached with his knife and said: "Great Brother Chief Little Beaver, if we scalp him there is only one scalp, and you will have nothing to show, except you're content with the wishbone."
Anne scrambled to her feet somehow, emptying two indignant cats out of her lap as she did so, and mechanically shifting her wishbone from her right hand to her left. Priscilla, who would have had to cross the room to reach the kitchen door, lost her head, wildly plunged the chocolate cake under a cushion on the inglenook sofa, and dashed upstairs.
More dominant, however, as the weeks passed and the branding went on, became the desire to accumulate property cattle. The Wishbone brand went scorching through the hair of hundreds of calves, while the VP scared tens. It was not right. He felt, somehow, cheated by fate.
"Of course I don't think the wishbone had really anything to do with our getting Paddy back, but I'm glad I tried it, for all that," remarked Cecily in a tone of satisfaction. "Well, anyhow, we've got Pat and that's the main thing," said Felix. "And I hope it will be a lesson to him to stay home after this," commented Felicity. "They say the barrens are full of mayflowers," said the Story Girl.
There was a little gray wind out in the meadows that night, and it danced along beside us on viewless, fairy feet, and sang a delicate song of the lovely, waiting years, while the night laid her beautiful hands of blessing over the world. "You see what Peg's wishbone did," said Peter triumphantly. "Now, look here, Peter, don't talk nonsense," expostulated Dan.
He had n’t been seen nowhere except in a little town they call Conway. He tried to get beer there, but there was n’t any saloon. Maybe he came in on a freight, but the brakeman had n’t seen him. They could n’t find no letters nor nothing on him; nothing but an old penknife in his pocket and the wishbone of a chicken wrapped up in a piece of paper, and some poetry.” “Some poetry?” we exclaimed.
As soon as we got home she flew to the little box upstairs where she kept her treasures, and brought therefrom the dry and brittle wishbone. "Peg told me how it must be done. I'm to hold the wishbone with both hands, like this, and walk backward, repeating the wish nine times.
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