"Gyp ain't five yet!" the woman had answered, stolidly.
"It's no use talking that way," was the quick reply, "he's NINE if he's a day. I think it's more likely that he's ten. Ye can't keep a child out of school unless he's less'n five, or over fourteen."
"Then he's OVER fourteen!" cried the woman.
"Less'n five one minute, and over fourteen the next!" said the man in disgust. "Grows kinder fast, don't he?"
"Well, he AIN'T goin' ter school!" the woman insisted, and the officer went his way.
Gyp, however, did not believe that he would long remain away from the shanty.
He determined to take no chances, and it seemed to him that the safest thing for him to do, was to keep well away from home.
At twilight he surprised his family by appearing with a huge bundle of fagots that he had gathered in the woods. He gave them yet another surprise by packing the wood upon the old wood pile behind the house, and running off again for more.
He returned with a larger bundle than the first.
"Kind 'o busy, ain't yer?" questioned his mother, but Gyp made no reply.
She watched him, as he hastily piled the wood.