"Well, anyway," called Merle, still in hushed tones, "I guess I got enough berries from this place."
"Aw, come on!" urged the worker.
In a rush of bravado he now extemporized a chant of defiance:
Old Jonas Whipple
Was an old cripple!
Old Jonas Whipple
Was an old cripple!
The Merle twin found this beyond endurance. He leaped for the fence and gained its top, looking back with a blanched face to see the offender smitten. He wanted to go at once, but this might be worth waiting for.
Wilbur continued to pick berries. Again he chanted loudly, mocking the solemnities of eternity:
Old Jonas Whipple