"Don't you think such a big man as Laddie can take care of himself?" she asked, and the dancing lights that had begun to fade came back. "Over there," she pointed through our woods toward the southwest, "lives a man you know. What do his neighbours call him?"
"Stiff-necked Johnny," I answered promptly.
"And the man who lives next him?"
"Pinch-fist Williams."
Her finger veered to another neighbour's.
"The girls of that house?"
"Giggle-head Smithsons."
"What about the man who lives over there?"
"He beats his wife."
"And the house beyond?"