“COME, Tim, hurry up and be courageous.”
Tim didn’t hurry up, nor was he in a hurry to be courageous.
“Can’t you shoot the creature?”
“No, grandma, I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Well, grandma, I’m afraid of hurting it,” said Tim.
“But that’s what shooting was meant for!” said Granny Luke, indignant at the weak-minded grandson.
“You shoot it, grandma!”
“I don’t know how to shoot—and, well—I am afraid of a gun, because I am a woman!” said Mrs. Luke, who was known in all the mining region as “Granny Luke”—more because she called herself so, than because anybody else gave her that title.