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"But I thought they was always fightin'," objected Bubble. "I've got a hist'ry book to home, an' in that it says they fit like time whenever they got a chance." "So they did," said Hilda.
"Wa-al," said the farmer, smiling, "I d'no ez 't' hes so to speak a hist'ry, an' yit there's allays somethin' amoosin' to me about that platter. My father was a sea-farin' man most o' his life, an' only came to the farm late in life, 'count of his older brother dyin', as owned it.
"It's them that's never summered and wintered a man that 'pears ter know the most about 'em. Ev'ry old maid in the world knows more about bringin' up children than the wimmen that's had a dozen." "Oh, yeou needn't think she didn't know what she was talkin' abeout!" cried Mrs. Scattergood, tossing her head. "She culled her examples from hist'ry, as well as modern times.
"God never made anything prettier 'an that bird, an' He must a-been mighty proud o' the job. Jest cast your eyes on it there! Ever see anything so runnin' over with dainty, pretty, coaxin' ways? Little red creatures, full o' hist'ry, too! Ever think o' that? Last year's bird, hatched hereabout, like as not.
They have trapped the beaver in this same creek, taken fish from this same lake, and followed the buffalo on yonder prairie. Who shall stop me if I lay my line of traps where my people so long ago laid theirs?" Rube shrugged his shoulders. "I ain't figurin' ter discuss ancient hist'ry with you, mister," he said.
It was through bein' in on a little mix-up Skeet had with one of his sisters that I got so well posted on the fam'ly hist'ry. Must have been more'n a year ago, while Old Hickory was laid up at home there for a spell, and I was chasin' back and forth from the Corrugated to the Ellins house most every day.
"'No, says Moore, "t'ain't quite sech ancient hist'ry. It's stage coaches. Thar's a passel of people down yere as allows you've been rustlin' the mails. "Old Man Rucker, who keeps the O. K. House, is away when Moore rounds up his party. But Missis Rucker's thar, an' the way that old lady talks to Enright an' the committee is a shame.
"'Twas er hist'ry lesson, an' the question was, 'Who was Columbus? an' the answer was, 'He was the son of er extinguished alligator, an' Miss Carrie laughed, an' said that wan't it." "And I rather think Miss Carrie was right," said the father. "Go and bring me the book." Diddie soon returned with her little history, and, showing the passage to her father, said eagerly,
"Brave Edward and his gallant sons Beneath its shadow bled; And lion-hearted Britons That flag to glory led. The sword of kings defended, When hostile foes drew near; The sheet whose colours bended Memorials proud and dear! "The hist'ry of a nation Is blazon'd on its page, A brief and bright relation Sent down from age to age.
"You don't expect anybody to believe this, about the lady and the sovereign, do you?" says the constable, eyeing him aside with ineffable disdain. "I don't know as I do, sir," replies Jo. "I don't expect nothink at all, sir, much, but that's the true hist'ry on it." "You see what he is!" the constable observes to the audience. "Well, Mr.
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