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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Really, Grazia, you alarm me with your wisdom," replied Cleo, affixing a very foolish giggle to the alarm signal. "I just wonder what will happen if you go getting so mighty wise all of a sudden. But I do think you are right just the same. Many hands mean mighty mixups. That's alliteration. You see I'm sticking to lit." "I wish you would stick to common sense, Cleo.
They sent me to take charge of the job and to straighten out its mixups and to try to win where the others had bungled. I was doing it, too, and it would have been a big feather in my cap, at Washington, when my good sense went to pieces on a reef named Claire Standish, a reef I hadn't counted on, any more than I counted on the reef that stove in my scow, an hour ago." She strove to speak.
I intended to tell you about Lucy as soon as you learned the truth about yourself, but I was hindered. Don't think, my boy, that I would purposely cause you suffering. What Lucy has told you is true, and I am so glad that the misunderstanding and the mixups no longer exist between us."
I heard some men down at the Post Office talking about a run the fire department had last night. Away out some place just for a chicken coop. They seemed peeved, as Louise would say. Now I feel we have a clue in that bottle note, but after all our other experiences perhaps it would be better for just you and me to go at the mystery first. More hands always seem to me like more mixups."
I suppose you know it's a bad breach of discipline in a show to have any mixups, don't you?" "I do. I make no apologies, except that I was acting wholly in self defense. All the same, I do not expect any favoritism. I am willing to take my punishment, whatever it may be," replied the lad steadily. There was the merest suspicion of a twinkle in the eyes of the showman. "Tell me what you did."
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