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Updated: May 15, 2025
Finally, above the uproar, Cowan's bellow was herd, and he kept it up until some notice was taken of it. "Shut up! Shut up! For God's sake, quit! Never saw such a bunch of tinder let somebody drop a cold, burned-out match in this gang, an' hell's to pay. Here, all of you, play cards an' forget about cross-tag in the scrub. You'll be arguing about playing marbles in the dark purty soon!"
Oh, nothing, I guess. They weren't killing anybody." "Playing cross-tag," said Mart. "I'd like to know, John, how you know they weren't killing anybody. They might have been trying to." "Then we're perfectly safe, Liza. We can set and let 'em kill us all day." "Well, I don't think it's any kind of way to behave, running around shooting right off your horse."
"But you won," Ernestine cried. "I certainly did, and, therefore, I shall not prosecute you, nor any one of your crooked gang if the bets are paid promptly. Let me see you owe me a box of cigars " "One cigar, sir!" "A box! A box!" "Cross tag!" Paula cried. "Let's play cross-tag! You're IT!" Suiting action to word, she tagged Graham on the shoulder and plunged into the tank.
Well, Grandfather Goosey-Gander started for home, and Jimmie and Lulu asked Sammie and Susie to come and play with them. Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy said they might, and they had a fine time under the trees in the woods, playing tag of all kinds; cross-tag, wood-tag, dirt-tag, leaf-tag, stump-tag, and a new kind, called acorn-tag, which I will explain about later.
So Mamma Wibblewobble started out the next day, taking Alice and Lulu with her, while Jimmie stayed home and played cross-tag with Bully, the frog, and Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, who had a day's vacation. They had lots of fun, and once Jimmie nearly fell down a great big but there, I started to tell you about Alice Wibblewobble's bonnet, and I must not get off the track.
Talk about your chariot race! Say, if we'd had Ben Hur aboard he'd been down on the floor, clawin' the mat. Twice we scraped fenders with passin' cars, and you could have traced every turn we made by the wheel paint we left on the curb corners. It was a game of gasoline cross-tag. We wasn't merely rollin'; we was one-stepping fox-trottin', with a few Loupovka motions thrown in for variety.
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