"
"Mebbe--mebbe--mebbe," muttered Henry, shaking his head dubiously. "It
certainly do beat all how things happens all at once in this world.
Come to think of it, the wery next day six of my sheep was killed by
dogs."
"It's good you're gittin' your dates cleared," snapped old Bolum. "On
history, Henery Holmes, you are the worst."
Henry retorted with an angry protest against the indictment, declaring
that he was studying history when Bolum was being nourished on "soft
food." That was true. Isaac admitted it frankly. He wasn't his
mother's keeper, that he could regulate his own birthday. Had that
been in his power he would certainly have set it a half century earlier
or later to avoid being constantly annoyed by the "onreasonablest
argeyments" Six Stars had ever heard. This made old Holmes smile
softly, and he turned and winked at me. The one thing he had ever been
thankful for, he said, was that his life had fallen with that of Isaac
Bolum. Whenever he done wrong; whenever the consciousness of sin was
upon him and he needed the chastisin' rod, he just went to the store
and set and listened to Ike.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25