"Heap so," said the Indian. "Joe him watch um play spy. When odder one run boy come with gun an’ dog. This one him fall, git ketched so. He ask boy to help. Boy him say, ‘Ha! ha!’"
"The boy felt bad," chuckled Teddy Smart. "He shed tears."
"Some time this one him kick boy, knock him in water. Boy him say ’bout that. This one him say it joke. This one him tell boy give ten cent to help um down."
"Ah! such boundless generosity!" burst from Teddy. "Such open-hearted munificence."
"Boy he say him go git ladder," Joe went on. "Him go off, leave dog here to watch. He come back with hat full of egg. Ugh! Then him git square for kick."
"Cruel boy!" sobbed Teddy. "Oh, how I hate that boy!"
"Boy he throw heap straight," said the old Indian. "Spy he kick an’ yell! Boy him laugh. Say it joke."
"Oh, what a bad, bad boy!" sighed Smart, with such a comical look of grief that nearly every one burst into laughter. "After this generous chap had kicked him, once on a time, he was heartless enough to return the kindness by pelting him with rotten eggs. That boy should be severely punished."
"Oh, for the love of goodness, help me down!" begged Scudder weakly. "I’m nearly dead."
"I don’t wonder," guffawed Brad Buckhart. "And you offered to give that boy ten cents to help you down?"