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Updated: May 13, 2025
But what's a fellow to do when his ma says, 'Now, Leonard, take little brother along and see that those big, rough boys don't hurt him." Tone and mannerisms were in perfect imitation of Mrs. Mosher. "Give him some cucumbers and let him fool around. That'll keep him quiet," Red suggested. "Yes," retorted Silvey scornfully.
Silvey knocked grounders innumerable to the different members of the infield who handled them with uncanny dexterity, or sent long flies out to the waiting players until he grew tired and Sid supplanted him.
Sid and Perry turned and took a few steps toward Bill. "Say," ordered the president and his secretary in unison, "get busy with those cans. What do you suppose you came over here for?" A little later, John discovered a pair of warped, rusty bicycle wheels, and hastened over to Silvey with them. "Can't we make a peachy wagon with these if we find two more?" he said excitedly.
Silvey, surprised by the sudden attack from the rear, turned and received a cucumber full upon his half-open lips. "Who did that?" he sputtered, as he dislodged the acrid fragments from his mouth. Red threw caution to the winds and danced exultantly out in the open. "You're a deader. You're a deader. I killed the general. I killed the general." Silvey advanced on him furiously.
The milkman, the butcher, and the gas inspector had each left heavy footmarks which were difficult to remove and made progress slow. At the rear steps, a huge drift met their gaze, and Silvey stretched his aching arms. "What'd we say we'd do this for?" he asked again. "Quarter." "Wished I'd said half a dollar. There's a walk on the other side, too." No skylarking now.
He worked the note down the narrow glass neck and plugged it with a bit of driftwood. "Maybe somebody, 'way across the lake, will find this," he explained, as he threw the receptacle far out on the water. "Then they'll think a ship's sunk." "What's 'lat' and 'long'?" asked Silvey, as they watched it bobbing up and down with the ripples.
Silvey followed close at his heels and DuPree lagged in the rear. "Boo-oo!" Sid shouted when they had ascended half the distance. John's pea shooter clattered to the landing. Silvey turned angrily on the miscreant, his face still pale from the fright. "I've a' mind to punch your nose for that! 'S'pose there was really somebody!" At last they reached their goal.
John snickered. "Got the worms?" he asked. Silvey swallowed his wrath and nodded. "Sh-sh, not so loud. You'll wake the folks. The can's on the back steps. Ain't many worms though. I hunted under the porch and down the tracks and all over. But the ground's too dry." John shook the nearly empty can disparagingly as Silvey joined him on the back lawn a moment later.
Christmas is coming so I thought I would write you. I want " He paused for reflection. Bill Silvey had been given a toy electric motor, last year.
"Silvey 'n I'll be generals of the armies," said John, when the babel had diminished. Sid raised his voice in protest. "Give somebody else a chance. Let Red and me be it this time." Silvey shouted derisively. "'Member the time you got hit in the eye with a snowball? Went home, bawling 'Ma-m-a-a, Ma-m-a-a. Fine general you'll make!" Sid brandished his fists with a show of braggadocio.
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