Those days were gone now, for Walter Borden was a well-grown muscular boy of sixteen. “I haven’t a doubt that I can put you on the bed yet,” laughed his grandfather, his eyes twinkling as he spoke.
“You’d better not try it,” laughed Walter’s mother, glancing in pride at her boy.
“Come on, grandfather,” Walter would call out laughingly; “try it!”
“‘Try it’!” retorted Grandfather Sprague. “I’m not going to ‘try’ it; I’m going to do it!”
“When?” laughed Walter.
“One time is as good as another.”
“Do it now! Do it now!” retorted the lad.
“You’re nothing but a little whipper-snapper. You don’t weigh more than a hundred and fifty.”
“How much do you weigh, grandfather?”