“Is all that jes’ fer mountain boys lack me?” This seemed beyond belief, but they assured him it was.
Raymond had greatly enjoyed demonstrating the mysteries of the telephone, electric lights and various contrivances of his own to so totally unenlightened and yet so appreciative an intelligence as Steve’s, while the quaint mountain speech interested and amused him exceedingly. So when Mr. Polk and the boy took leave of the Coltons for the night Raymond secured a promise that Steve might attend school with him next day. Mr. Polk would be busy making arrangements for the few days’ holiday which would be necessary to take Steve back to the mountains and place him in school.
Promptly next morning Raymond arrived at Mr. Polk’s rooms for Steve and the boys started off together like two comrades. It was Steve’s first day in a schoolroom, and eye and ear were on the alert, taking in everything.
He was well dressed and with his intelligent face 84 the other boys noted nothing unusual until the noon hour when Raymond introduced his new specimen with keen relish. He had no unkind intentions in the sly winks he gave chosen comrades, but these aroused the curiosity of his fellows, and when Steve began to talk the boys awoke to lively possibilities. One after another began to ask questions.
“What did you do for fun down at Hollow Hut?” asked one.
“We uns didn’t do nothin’ fer fun, ’cep’in’ hunt cotton tails, foxes an’ coons,” answered the boy.
“Didn’t you play football?” asked some one else.
“I nuver hearn tell of it,” said Steve.
“Du tell,” returned another boy, venturing to fall a little into the stranger’s vernacular.
“Didn’t you ever play tennis, shinny or baseball?” persisted some one else, and Steve replied politely “that nobody ever hearn o’ them things in Hollow Hut.”