A humly boy don't git
tramped on an' nibbled too much."
Annabel and Harry sat in a corner playing checkers. They seemed to be
much impressed by the opinion of Mr. Brimstead. For a moment their game
was forgotten.
"That boy has a way with the gals," Samson laughed. "There's no such
fence around either of them."
"They're both liable to be nibbled some," said Brimstead.
"I like to see 'em have a good time," said his wife. "There are not many
boys to play with out here."
"The boys around here are all fenced in," said Annabel. "There's nobody
here of my age but Lanky Peters, who looks like a fish, and a red-headed
Irish boy with a wooden leg."
"Say, she's like a woodpecker in a country where there ain't any trees,"
said Brimstead, in his confidential tone.
"No I'm not," the girl answered. "A woodpecker has wings and the right to
use them."
"Cheer up. A lot of people will be moving in here this spring--more boys
than you could shake a stick at," Mrs. Brimstead remarked, cheerfully.
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