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Updated: May 28, 2025
Percy, exhibiting a sketch-book under her arm. "I dropped over to get a criticism." "Oh, drawin'-lessons?" said Mr. Percy tolerantly. "Well, don' lemme interrup' ye." He moved as if to withdraw toward the steps, but she detained him with a question. "You're spending the rest of the summer here?" "That depends," he answered tersely. "I hear you have some PASSIONATELY interesting friends."
She's had squir'l-books, an' bird-books, an' books on nearly every sort o' wild critter you'd think too mean to put into a book, at that school, an' give the child'en readin'-lessons on 'em an' drawin'-lessons an' clay-moldin' lessons. Why, Sonny has did his alligator so nach'l in clay thet you'd most expec' to see it creep away. An' you'd think mo' of alligators forever afterward, too.
"I don't want to make shoes, nor fish neither, Uncle Shub," said Elkanah, soberly, looking the old fellow in the face, "goin' down to the Banks year arter year in cold an' fish-gurry, an' peggin' away all winter, like mad. I want to be rich, like Captain Crowell; I want to be a gentleman, like that painter-chap that give me drawin'-lessons, last summer, when I stayed to home." "Phew!
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