“Yes,” says he, “but what’s it g-gettin’ us? We’re p-payin’ our bills and not r-runnin’ in debt, but that’s about all. No use havin’ a b-business if you don’t make money out of it.”
“Go ahead,” says I. “I’m willin’ to make all there is.”
“I’m goin’ ahead,” says he. “I’m goin’ to start a scheme to get s-subscribers. I want a t-thousand of ’em right off. Not jest f-folks that buys the Trumpet on the street, but that p-pays their money and has it all the year. Like to git fifteen hunderd if I could.”
“Hain’t that many families in Wicksville,” says I, “and no family wants more ’n one copy of a paper, even if you do edit it,” says I.
“There’s other towns,” says he. “We got the whole county to p-play with. The Eagle Center Clarion come over here and tried to t-t-take our town away from us. Well, turn about’s fair play. Besides, there’s all the farmers and settlements and what not.”
“If you say so,” says I, “it must be so.” I was a little mite sarcastic, and he came right back at me quick.
“If I say so it’s so,” says he, “because I don’t jest let my t-t-tongue waggle like you. I don’t gen’ally say somethin’ till I got somethin’ to say, after I’ve f-figgered it out in my head. The t-trouble with you, Binney, is you do most of your t-thinkin’ with your stummick.”
I didn’t think of anything to say back to him.
“And,” says he, “you don’t do enough thinkin’ with t-t-that to give you a stummick-ache.”
“If you could think with your stummick,” says I, “you’d have some mighty big thoughts,” which was so, him having one of the biggest stummicks in town. He just grinned and said that was pretty good for me, and he had hopes I might really say something smart some day if I practised hard.