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Updated: June 2, 2025
Thinking it over, and hearing Paul's voice so round, clear, full, and sweet, he couldn't make up his mind to tell anybody of the little joke. "After all, he didn't mean anything in particular, only to have a little fun with me. Boys will be boys," and so Mr. Leatherby, kind old man that he was, determined to keep it all to himself.
He left the bucket on the step, and went home, chuckling all the way. In the morning Miss Dobb saw a crowd of people in front of her house, looking towards it and laughing. Mr. Leatherby had come out from his shop; Mr. Noggin, the cooper, was there, smoking his pipe; also, Mrs. Shelbarke, who lived across the street. Philip was there. "That is a 'cute trick, I vow," said he.
"Ah! what is this?" said he; and, putting on his spectacles, he read, "North 69° East, 140 rods to a stake; South 87° West, 50 rods to an oak-tree." "That is Paul Parker's figuring, I reckon. I always knew that Paul loved fun, but I didn't think he would do this!" said Mr. Leatherby to himself, more in sorrow than in anger. "Good morning, Mr. Leatherby," said Philip, coming up at that moment.
Leatherby, when he returned with his neighbors. He liked Paul, and had been loath to believe that he was guilty of stealing. "It is you who have been playing tricks all along. Come now, own up," he added. "It ain't me, it is Philip, he told me to come," said Bob, who was thoroughly cowed by the appearance of Mr. Noggin and the others, and who feared that he would be harshly dealt with. "O ho!
"Ah, those were the days, Tom," sighed the eccentric man, "those were the days! Even if you're not going off to the wilds, maybe you might give me some kind of a job here so that my wife can't drag me off to that house party. I feel it in my very bones that old Hiram Leatherby will be there and he ALWAYS singles me out to talk about his fossil collection!"
"Paul Parker did that, I'll bet," said Mr. Leatherby, the shoemaker, peeping out from his shop. "It is just like him." An old white horse, belonging to Mr. Smith, also sought the shade of the maple before the Pensioner's house. Bruno barked at him by the hour, but the old horse would not move for anything short of a club or stone. "I'll see if I can't get rid of him," said Paul to himself.
Philip Funk is at the bottom, is he?" Mr. Leatherby exclaimed, remembering how Philip suggested that it was Paul who had stuffed his chimney with old paper. "If you will let me down, I will tell you all," said Bob, groaning with pain from the cord cutting into his ankle. "We will hear your confession before we let you down," said Mr. Leatherby.
"What is the matter with your chimney?" "Some of you boys have been playing a trick upon me." "Who, I should like to know, is there in New Hope mean enough to do that?" Philip asked. "Whose figuring do you call that?" Mr. Leatherby asked, presenting the paper. "Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive! You ought to expose him, Mr. Leatherby." "I don't like to say anything against him.
Noggin, the cooper, who had taken refuge in Leatherby's shop, afterwards said that Leatherby was frightened half to death, and kept saying, "Just as like as not he will make a spring and dart right through the window!" "Nobly, bravely done, Paul," said Judge Adams. "Let me shake hands with you, my boy." He and Mrs. Adams and Azalia had seen it all from their parlor window.
Leatherby thought the matter over all day, as he sat in his dingy shop, which was only a few rods from Mr. Chrome's, where Paul was painting wagons, singing snatches of songs, and psalms and hymns. Mr. Leatherby loved to hear him. It made the days seem shorter. It rested him when he was tired, cheered him when he was discouraged. It was like sunshine in his soul, for it made him happy.
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