“That's all right,” he said, “Many a man has been licked befo' fur bein' on the Lord's side.”
“You mean to tell me, Archie B. Butts, you bet on a dorg fight sho' nuff,” said his father, nervously handling his hickories.
“An' played hookey?” chimed in his mother.
“Tell it, Archie B., tell the truth an' shame the devil,” mocked Patsy.
“Yes, I done all that—fur charity,” he said boldly, and with a victorious ring in his voice.
“Did you put up that ten dollars yo' Granny lef' you?” screamed his mother.
“Did you dare, Archie B.,” said Patsy.
His father paled at the thought of it: “An' lost it, Archie B., lost it, my son. Oh, I mus' teach you how sinful it is to gamble.”
Archie B. replied by running his hand deep down into his pocket and bringing up a handful of gold—five eagles!
His father dropped the switches and stared. His mother sat down suddenly in a chair and Patsy reached out, took it and counted it deliberately:—