“But what has he got stuck into the cap?” pursued Laura.
“A feather. Rather, the remains of one,” chuckled Lance. “It was quite a long one when he started for the dock this morning; but he crossed the street right under the noses of Si Cumming’s team of mules that draws the ice-wagon, and that off mule grabbed the best part of the feather. You know, that mule will eat anything.”
“Well, one thing is sure,” drawled Bobby. “If Purt is supposed to represent a Sherwood Forest outlaw, and he ever meets one of the outlaws of the Big Woods that he’s been worried 56 about, the latter ‘squashbuckler’ will be scared to death.”
“‘Squashbuckler’ is good!” chuckled Jess. “Some of those old villains I expect were squashes.”
“My dear!” ejaculated her mother. “I fear the language you young folk use does not speak well for your instructors of Central High.”
“I guess we do not cast much glory upon our teachers, Mrs. Morse,” rejoined Laura, laughing.
“It’s only Short and Long, here, who ‘does the teachers proud,’” said her brother, with a grin. “Hear about what he got off in Ancient History class the other day? Professor Dimp pretty nearly set him back for that.”
“Aw—now,” growled Billy. “He asked for a date, didn’t he?”
“What’s the burn?” demanded Bobby, briskly.
“Why, Old Dimple asked Billy to mention a memorable date in Roman history, and Billy says: ‘Antony’s with Cleopatra.’”