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"But," I said, "perhaps if you went and played with them and ran up and down as they do, you wouldn't have headache." Johnnyboy did not answer for a moment; then there was a perceptible gentle movement of his small frame. I confess I felt brutally like Belcher. He was getting down.
"Come along!" continued Jack, "it will do you a heap of good! It's better than lazing there like a girl! Rouse up, old man!" "Me don't like that geegee," said Johnnyboy calmly. "He's a silly fool." "You're afraid," said Jack. Johnnyboy lifted his proud lashes, and toddled to the steps. Jack received him in his arms, swung him into the seat, and placed the slim yellow reins in his baby hands.
He was afterwards taken, in the charge of a private tutor, to Europe, where, I trust, we shall NOT meet." I could not resist saying cheerfully that, at least, Johnnyboy had for a short time made it lively for the big boys. The Rev. Mr. Belcher rose slowly, but painfully, said with a deeply grieved expression, "I don't think that I entirely follow you," and moved gently away.
At the next veranda column he paused, and, with his baby thumbs inserted in his silk sash, again regarded him under his half-dropped lashes as if he were some curious animal, and then passed on. But Belcher was silenced for the second time. I think I have said enough to show that Johnnyboy was hopelessly worshiped by an impressible and illogical sex.
I sat down on a bench, and dropped a few of the pellets into his palm. He ate them seriously, and then turned around and backed after the well-known appealing fashion of childhood against my knees. I understood the movement although it was unlike my idea of Johnnyboy.
It isn't far." A few steps down the crowded street we dived into a den of plate-glass windows, of scraps of paper, of rattling, ticking machines, more voluble and excited than the careworn, abstracted men who leaned over them. But "Johnnyboy" I started at the familiar name again was not there. He was at luncheon.
But the season presently passed with much of this and other criticism, and the Sluysdaels passed too, carrying Johnnyboy and his small aches and long eyelashes beyond these Crustacean voices, where it was to be hoped there was peace. I did not hear of him again for five years, and then, oddly enough, from the lips of Mr.
I looked down; it was Johnnyboy, in a new and ravishing smuggler suit, with his questioning eyes fixed on mine. "Howjer do dat?" "Eh?" "Wajer do dat for?" "That? Oh, that's medicine. I've got a headache." He searched the inmost depths of my soul with his wonderful eyes. Then, after a pause, he held out his baby palm. "You kin give Johnny some." "But you haven't got headache have you?"
Anything approaching to the absolute likeness of this imitation of Johnnyboy's accents it is impossible to conceive. Possibly Johnnyboy felt it. But he simply lifted his lovely lashes, and said with great distinctness: "Mik don't you devil!" After this, closely as it had knitted us together, Johnnyboy's morning presence was mysteriously withdrawn. It was later pointed out to us by Mr.
But Johnnyboy had already thrown down his spoon, slipped from his high chair, and was marching out of the room as fast as his little sandals would carry him, with indignation bristling in every line of the crisp bows of his sash. I, however, gathered from Mr.
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