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"Oh, all right then. Go on. Supposin' I am killed?" "Will you give me your scalps?" "Your ma'll smack you if she catches you a-wearin' them," he temporized. "I don't have to wear them when she's around. Now if you got killed, Laban, somebody'd have to get them scalps. Why not me?" "Why not?" he repeated. "That's correct, and why not you? All right, Jesse. I like you, and your pa.
"Why, because it would make such a fuss," droned little Eve Edgarton drearily. "Doors would bang and lights would blaze and somebody'd scream and and you make so much fuss when you're born," she said, "and so much fuss when you die don't you think it's sort of nice to keep things as quietly to yourself as you can all the rest of your days?" "Yes, of course," acknowledged Barton. "But "
"Don't you like what I said?" Dilly smiled, though her eyes were still apprehensive. "It ain't that," she answered slowly, striving in her turn to be kind. "Only I guess I never happened to think before just how't would be. I never spec'lated much on keepin' house." "But somebody'd have to keep it," said Jethro good-naturedly, smiling on her. "We can get good help.
"He's got one o' these self-acting mouths, with a perpetual-motion attachment. He don't do anything but talk, and mostly bad. Blame him, it's his fault that we're kept here, instead of being sent to the front, as we ought to be. Wish somebody'd shoot him." The Provost-Marshal was found in his office, dealing out sentences like a shoulder-strapped Rhadamanthes.
"Oh, my, what a pity!" groaned Miss Arabella, remembering all she had suffered in toiling down the lane with the basket. "It don't matter much, though," continued the narrator placidly. "Jake said somebody'd get them that likely needed them worse than Minnie Morrison. Well, in the afternoon, after we'd visited a while, Jake hired a livery rig an' we drove out to the orphant home.
Somebody'd ought to run that feline out of town before she ruins me." "She is a very nice woman," complacently declared the daughter; but her father snorted loudly. "I wouldn't associate with such a critter." "My! But you're proud." "It ain't that," Blaze defended himself. "I know her husband, and he's a bad hombre. He backed me up against a waterin'-trough and told my fortune yesterday.
But Henrietta said: "O Rob, things are nice enough as they are; I don't believe we'd be any happier in a house as fine as Cousin John's. Let's have a good time as we go along, and not mind about being somebody. But, Rob, I wish somebody'd buy this picture, and then we could have something to set off this room a little. Don't you think a sofa would be nice?"
He hastened to speak, to commit himself to what he must deliberately wish: "Then we'll telephone Nan." She looked at him, all gratitude. Her friend had gone away into strange dark corners of life where only her instinct followed him, and here he was back again. "No," she said, "don't you telephone. Somebody'd listen in. You write.
His farm is bigger than ours, all 'round; but it's too big for its fences, just as I'm too big for my clothes. Ham's house is three times as large as ours, but it looks as if it had grown too fast. It hasn't any paint, to speak of, nor any blinds. It looks a good deal as if somebody'd just built it there and then forgot it and gone off and left it out-of-doors."
Why, I'd made a hole in my nose in half a minit, if somebody'd only give me a gold ring to put through it!" "Who bored your ears, Sylvia?" said I at length. "Why, I did it myself, to be sure. Any body can do that jest take a needle and thread and draw it right through."
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