“Why, the crabbed old bachelor, who had six small nephews, declared he believed all boys should be taken at about three years of age and put in barrels, the heads nailed on, and that they should be fed through the bungholes.”
“Goodness!” laughed Agnes. “And when they grew up?”
“‘Drive in the bungs,’” declared Neale, seriously. “That was his creed and I am about ready to subscribe to it.”
Sammy, however, had a good time. He confided to Mrs. Heard and Ruth that he had never had such a good time in his life. He got letters and money from his mother and father, just as the Corner House girls did, likewise, from home; and he was actually growing sturdy looking as well as brown.
“Whether this tour does anybody else good or not, Sammy P. is being helped,” declared Mrs. Heard.
“‘Sammy P. Buttinsky,’” sniffed Agnes. “Such a plague. I believe his mother will lose ten years of her age in appearance during this time of Sammy’s absence. She certainly ought to be our friend for life.”
After all, however, they none of them could really be “mad at” Sammy, as Tess said. He was a plague; but there was something really attractive about him, too.
“He is the most un-moral child I ever heard of,” Ruth said. “He seems to have stepped right out of the stone age.”
Mrs. Heard smiled at that statement. “My dear girl,” she said, “most boys are that way. Philly Collinger was—and look at him now,” for Mrs. Heard was very proud indeed of the county surveyor. “I think there is one very helpful thing that you Corner House girls are missing.”
“What is that, Mrs. Heard?” asked Ruth, in curiosity.