“I’m tellin’ ye,” roared Silas, “that Dan ought to have the New Yorks up here for one game anyway. That boy is a credit to Rodman an’ everybody what lives here! He can pitch th’ legs off a brass monkey! I never see such a ball-player.”
“He plays a very good game,” remarked Mr. Borden smiling pleasantly at Dan as he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid, Silas, that you’ll spoil him with your flattering words?”
“Not a bit! Ye can’t spoil Dan. I hear ye’re goin’ off t’ school with this Borden boy, Dan.”
“Yes,” said Dan quietly.
“Well, education’s a great thing. I wish I had some o’ it.”
“You have,” remarked Mr. Borden.
“Who? You mean me? I may be a fool ’bout some things, but I guess I ain’t such a fool as t’ not know that I don’t know nothin’.”
“One of the wisest men that ever lived once said that he thought the men who didn’t know and knew enough to know that they didn’t know were very wise.”
“Shucks!” sniffed Silas, his round freckled face nevertheless betraying his deep pleasure. “I guess I c’n make a harness that can stan’ the strain o’ five ton, but when ye’ve said that ye’ve said th’ whole thing. Now, here’s Walter. Th’ other day I see in th’ Rodman ‘Reflector’ some newfangled words. If I rec’lect aright they was ‘sick transum glory Monday’——”