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Plomacy as, leaning on his stout stick, he went about among the rural guests, acting as a sort of head constable as well as master of the revels. "Now, young'un, if you can't manage to get along without that screeching, you'd better go to the other side of the twelve-acre field and take your dinner with you. Come, girls, what do you stand there for, twirling of your thumbs?
"But don't say anything before mother about him. Mr. Drugg's never been one of ma's favorites," added the teacher, earnestly. As it chanced, it was old Mrs. Scattergood herself who broached the forbidden topic, almost as soon as Miss 'Rill and Janice were in the house. "What do you suppose that great gump, Hopewell Drugg, let his young'un do to-day, 'Rill?
Tipsy as he was, he managed to give his assailant a pretty substantial token of regard under the ear, with his knuckles. "Now young'un, you're drunk! I won't hit you back, 'cause a case for manslaughter might be expensive. How'd you break in here, when you are so drunk you can't stand? I don't see how you could get in with the door open." "Noneo'yerimp'r'ence! Cl'out!
You like mice, don't you?" he continued. "Why, I like candy mice," said Peter grinning, "but I never knew before that cats did!" "Sh-sh!" Poor Prowler began to tremble all over and look anxiously about him. "Not a word of that," he murmured, "or I'm a dead cat! You keep mum about that little affair, young'un, and I'll do you a good turn yet, see if I don't!"
"That young'un will do anything to make you happy, Margie." From the top of the stairs the words floated down: "Are you coming mother " Suzanna's voice choked on the word, but Mrs. Reynolds heard only the exquisite title. She lifted her face, glowing like a heaven of stars. "I'm coming, Suzanna," she called. And she went swiftly up the stairs to the little girl.
"Ye couldn't kill that there Cameron boy, I tell ye! He is as sassy a young'un as there is in this county." Doctor Davison turned as though to say something sharp to the mean old man; but just then the men below shouted up to him: "He's hit his head and his arm's twisted under him, Doctor. He isn't conscious, but doesn't seem much hurt otherwise." "Can you bring him up?" queried the physician.
"You don't suppose she really has any family, do you?" demanded Hiram. "No father nor mother, I expect. But many a family will get rid of a young'un too small to be of any use, when they probably have many children of their own.
Anxiety was in the man's voice. "Not so very much, Daddy," she replied bravely. "Your young'un?" The man glanced at Dr. Harpe quickly in a mixture of surprise and resentment. "My sister's young'un," he answered curtly. The child winced as Dr. Harpe picked up the foot roughly and ran her fingers along the bone. "Yep; it's broken."
Old Ben explained the situation to Ham as they leisurely hunted the dog. At last Ham understood, and was happy for Willis. "My, but you look pert, Tad. I ain't seed ye look so pert in ten year. What's up? Come, tell a feller. Has that young'un been stuffin' ye while we was gone?" and Ben laughed a merry laugh.
'Now, you know what you've got to expect, master, so call away as quick as you like; the dog will soon stop that game. Get on, young'un! Bull's-eye wagged his tail in acknowledgment of this unusually endearing form of speech; and, giving vent to another admonitory growl for the benefit of Oliver, led the way onward.
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