"A kid can't do anything any more," he announced dramatically. "Can't break anything except the breakables they give him to break on purpose. Can't get dirty except in the dirt-pen—and they graduate him from that when he's two. Can't even be bitten by an uninj—it's contraprogrammed."
"Where'd you ever get so fixated on dirt?" Hal asked in a gentle voice acquired from a robot adolescer.
"I've been reading a book about a kid called Huckleberry Finn," the Butcher replied airily. "A swell book. That guy got dirtier than anything." His eyes became dreamy. "He even ate out of a garbage pail."
"What's a garbage pail?"
"I don't know, but it sounds great."
The battling uninjes careened into them. Brute had Darter by the ear and was whirling him around hilariously.
"Aw, quit it, Brute," the Butcher said in annoyance.
Brute obediently loosed his hold and returned to his master, paying no attention to his adversary's efforts to renew the fight.
The Butcher looked Brute squarely in the eyes. "You're making too much of a rumpus," he said. "I want to think."