Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
John lingered a moment to help Silvey carry the junk into the "Tigers'" club house. "Gee," Bill exclaimed as he gazed at the nondescript jumble, "I'll bet you it'll be a peachy time tonight." John nodded ecstatically. Then a lump caught in his throat and held him speechless for a moment. After all, he was out of the fun, and he hadn't the heart to tell his chum, either. He turned to leave.
"Ain't so small, is he, John?" asked Silvey optimistically, as he leaned over and looked down from an angle which only a small boy could maintain without losing his balance. "Bet you it's going to be a peach of a day." The pier was now rapidly filling. A plethoric, sandy-haired German squatted beside the hunchback, watching an unproductive pole with a patience worthy of a better cause.
Then came a great, heavy hulk of a man in overalls, with a battered tin pail swinging from his side, whose lurching step bespoke a violent temper. Silvey raised his pea shooter. "Better leave him alone," Sid cautioned. "Can't do anything to us," John scoffed. "Doors are all locked. And how's he going to tell our mothers when he doesn't know who we are?"
The broken glass, rain-soaked paper caps, sticks, boards, and dead grass had been carefully assembled in conical heaps near the railroad fence, and he beamed his approval. "It's going to be peachy, Silvey," he broke out. "Yes, and Sid'll say he did it," his chum commented bitterly. "What do we care? We'll put the home plate here," he indicated a spot some fifty feet north of the dairy buildings.
Skinny Mosher dropped the sphere as if it were a hot coal. "Go easy," he cautioned. "Sid hasn't brought my glove yet." The elder Harrison boy who aspired to fill Joe Menard's place, ran over to the pitcher's box, and the tossing was resumed. From third to first, second to pitcher, and then to Silvey, and back again. Muscles became limbered and arms more certain of their mark.
Past the few unkempt buildings of the neighborhood dairy, over the small bit of pasturage where the master thereof kept a dozen cows that his customers might think their milk was fresh, daily, and across the cement road, they scampered at top speed, to pull up panting just inside the park. "Bet you I get to the lagoon bridge first," said Silvey when their breathing grew less labored.
"Time," called Silvey, striving vainly to make himself heard above the exultant shouts. "Time, I tell you!" Captain Shultz of the "Jeffersons" drew out a watch, borrowed from a friend for the occasion, and compared it with the one in Bill's possession. The game was over and the "Jeffersons" had lost.
He drew a nervous breath, and swung the door swiftly back, as if afraid that his courage would ooze away before he reached the stairway. Sid and Silvey followed very cautiously over the scratched hardwood floor. "Shall I shut the door?" asked Bill as he took hold of the knob. "N-no, we may have to run, yet." They explored the main floor.
"Two cents?" he sneered. "Naw! Won't sell any for less 'n a nickel." A gaunt, anaemic southerner, who was with the party of idlers, spoke up. "Yeah, boy. What's the matter?" Silvey turned ruefully. "Ain't got money enough to buy some minnies," he explained.
Let's try the big yellow house, Bill." With a glance back at the foe, they ran up the steps and rang the bell persistently until a becapped, flustered servant opened the door. "Ask the missis if she wants the walk cleaned?" said Silvey, who usually handled the negotiations for work.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking