out.
“Win?” Gramps looked dumbfounded—I knew I was.
Uncle Charlie and Grandpa, who had come on over, looked a little surprised too.
“Yeah . . .” Hiram’s glee began to fade from his face. “Don’t ya—”
“I never played a game for money in my life.” Gramps looked offended. “That’s gambling. If a game can’t be played for the sheer joy of the playing, then leave it alone, I always say.”
“But you gave Josh—”
“I gave Josh a couple of dimes to buy fishhooks the next time he goes to town. He and I plan to do some fishing before he has to go back to school.”
Hiram had added an embarrassed look to his one of disappointment. He cleared his throat and cleaned his knife with his eyes turned from everyone.
Lou, who had returned, luckily chose that moment to announce that coffee was ready, so we all trooped into the house.
Her timin’ couldn’t have been better. The air was a mite heavy, though I still couldn’t rightly understand the situation fully.
Hiram left as soon as he had swallowed the last of his cake and washed it down with coffee. He thanked Uncle Charlie rather weakly for the invitation, but he kept his eyes away from Lou’s, even as he mumbled his thanks for the dinner. He also avoided Gramps. It was rather comical watchin’ him scuttle around hardly knowin’ which way to look.
Uncle Charlie went with Hiram to get his team and the big bays fairly thundered out of our yard. Uncle Charlie returned. Lou was busy clearin’ the table; no one jumped up to protest her activity and suggest that she rest herself.
Gramps grinned at me sort of silly and gave a quick wink.
He turned to Uncle Charlie. He shook his head slowly as though he was really at a loss to understand it all.
“Your friend seemed like such a nice young man, Charles. I just can hardly believe that he would be a gambler. It’s a shame, a downright shame!”
I had to run outside before I busted out laughin’.
C HAPTER 12
Fall Days
U NCLE CHARLIE WAS GOING to town for some binder twine, and Gramps decided that he’d ride along with him. I ached to go too, but I had too many chores that needed finishing. I still had those two dimes that Gramps had given me, and I could hardly wait to check over the fishhooks at Kirk’s. I offered them back to Gramps, thinkin’ that he might like to buy the hooks himself, but he said that I knew more about such things.
I worked with rather draggin’ feet. It seemed strange and lonesome somehow without Gramps there to sort of spur me on.
After dinner I had some free time, so I got out my fishin’ tackle and cleaned up my hooks. I nearly stuck myself with one of them; Auntie Lou got all excited and said that I’d better put them away. My handlin’ fishhooks always made her nervous.
I went out to split wood. I had made quite a stack before I finally heard the wagon comin’. I slammed the axe head into the choppin’ block and sauntered into the kitchen.
“They’re comin’.”
“Are they?”
“Yep.”
There was a pause. Auntie Lou was havin’ a few rare minutes with one of those mail-order catalogues. She kept right on lookin’.
“Coffee ready?”
She looked up, her fine eyebrows archin’.
“You wantin’ coffee?”
“Not me—Gramps and Uncle Charlie. Jest thought that they might kinda like a cup—or juice or somethin’.”
Lou smiled and laid aside the fascinating pages.
“So you’re hungry, are ya, Josh?”
It wasn’t what I meant, but I didn’t care that Lou took me wrong. By the time the men came in from the barn, Lou had cut some molasses cake, and the coffee was about ready to boil.
At my place was a tall glass of milk.
Gramps passed close to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I sorta felt like pressin’ myself against him and wag-gin’ my tail.
“How’d chores go?”
“Fine. I got done in pretty good time. Even cleaned up my fishhooks.”
“I was going to take a look at the hooks in the general store just to see what
“Win?” Gramps looked dumbfounded—I knew I was.
Uncle Charlie and Grandpa, who had come on over, looked a little surprised too.
“Yeah . . .” Hiram’s glee began to fade from his face. “Don’t ya—”
“I never played a game for money in my life.” Gramps looked offended. “That’s gambling. If a game can’t be played for the sheer joy of the playing, then leave it alone, I always say.”
“But you gave Josh—”
“I gave Josh a couple of dimes to buy fishhooks the next time he goes to town. He and I plan to do some fishing before he has to go back to school.”
Hiram had added an embarrassed look to his one of disappointment. He cleared his throat and cleaned his knife with his eyes turned from everyone.
Lou, who had returned, luckily chose that moment to announce that coffee was ready, so we all trooped into the house.
Her timin’ couldn’t have been better. The air was a mite heavy, though I still couldn’t rightly understand the situation fully.
Hiram left as soon as he had swallowed the last of his cake and washed it down with coffee. He thanked Uncle Charlie rather weakly for the invitation, but he kept his eyes away from Lou’s, even as he mumbled his thanks for the dinner. He also avoided Gramps. It was rather comical watchin’ him scuttle around hardly knowin’ which way to look.
Uncle Charlie went with Hiram to get his team and the big bays fairly thundered out of our yard. Uncle Charlie returned. Lou was busy clearin’ the table; no one jumped up to protest her activity and suggest that she rest herself.
Gramps grinned at me sort of silly and gave a quick wink.
He turned to Uncle Charlie. He shook his head slowly as though he was really at a loss to understand it all.
“Your friend seemed like such a nice young man, Charles. I just can hardly believe that he would be a gambler. It’s a shame, a downright shame!”
I had to run outside before I busted out laughin’.
C HAPTER 12
Fall Days
U NCLE CHARLIE WAS GOING to town for some binder twine, and Gramps decided that he’d ride along with him. I ached to go too, but I had too many chores that needed finishing. I still had those two dimes that Gramps had given me, and I could hardly wait to check over the fishhooks at Kirk’s. I offered them back to Gramps, thinkin’ that he might like to buy the hooks himself, but he said that I knew more about such things.
I worked with rather draggin’ feet. It seemed strange and lonesome somehow without Gramps there to sort of spur me on.
After dinner I had some free time, so I got out my fishin’ tackle and cleaned up my hooks. I nearly stuck myself with one of them; Auntie Lou got all excited and said that I’d better put them away. My handlin’ fishhooks always made her nervous.
I went out to split wood. I had made quite a stack before I finally heard the wagon comin’. I slammed the axe head into the choppin’ block and sauntered into the kitchen.
“They’re comin’.”
“Are they?”
“Yep.”
There was a pause. Auntie Lou was havin’ a few rare minutes with one of those mail-order catalogues. She kept right on lookin’.
“Coffee ready?”
She looked up, her fine eyebrows archin’.
“You wantin’ coffee?”
“Not me—Gramps and Uncle Charlie. Jest thought that they might kinda like a cup—or juice or somethin’.”
Lou smiled and laid aside the fascinating pages.
“So you’re hungry, are ya, Josh?”
It wasn’t what I meant, but I didn’t care that Lou took me wrong. By the time the men came in from the barn, Lou had cut some molasses cake, and the coffee was about ready to boil.
At my place was a tall glass of milk.
Gramps passed close to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I sorta felt like pressin’ myself against him and wag-gin’ my tail.
“How’d chores go?”
“Fine. I got done in pretty good time. Even cleaned up my fishhooks.”
“I was going to take a look at the hooks in the general store just to see what
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