"
Margaret arose deliberately, removed the white cloth from the supper
table and substituted an old red one she used to wrap the bread. She
put away the pretty dishes they commonly used and set the table with old
plates for pies and kitchen utensils. But she fried the chicken, and was
generous with milk and honey, snowy bread, gravy, potatoes, and fruit.
Wesley repainted the scratched wheel. He mended the fence, with Billy
holding the nails and handing the pickets. Then he filled the old hole,
digged a new one and set the hitching post.
Billy hopped on one foot at his task of holding the post steady as the
earth was packed around it. There was not the shadow of a trouble on his
little freckled face.
Sinton threw in stones and pounded the earth solid around the post. The
sound of a gulping sob attracted him to Billy. The tears were rolling
down his cheeks. "If I'd a knowed you'd have to get down in a hole, and
work so hard I wouldn't 'a' hit the horses," he said.
"Never you mind, Billy," said Wesley. "You will know next time, so you
can think over it, and make up your mind whether you really want to
before you strike."
Wesley went to the barn to put away the tools. He thought Billy was at
his heels, but the boy lagged on the way. A big snowy turkey gobbler
resented the small intruder in his especial preserves, and with spread
tail and dragging wings came toward him threateningly. If that turkey
gobbler had known the sort of things with which Billy was accustomed
to holding his own, he never would have issued the challenge.
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