“Who? The Judge?”
“No, no. Billie, this boy. What does he look like?”
“Looks like all-get-out half the time, and never comes to church at all. You’ll know him by his whistling. He can whistle like a bird. I’ve heard him sometimes in the early spring, and you couldn’t tell his whistle from a real whippoorwill. There is something about him that everybody likes.”
“I hope he comes over this way,” Mrs. Craig said.
“Oh, he will. The Judge never lets him have any pocket money, so he’s always trying to earn a little. He’ll come and try to sell you a tame crow, most likely, or a trained caterpillar. I was driving over toward their place one day and I declare if I didn’t find him lying flat in the middle of the road. Ella Lou barked and I asked him what he was doing. ‘Don’t drive in the middle of the road, Miss Craig,’ he said, ‘’cause I’ve got some ants here, taming them!’ Real good-looking boy he is too.”
“Gee, but he sounds like fun,” Kit remarked fervently. “I almost feel like hunting him up, don’t you, Jean?”
Jean nodded her head. She was putting up currants and raspberries, and the day was very warm.
“Why do you keep a fire going in the house?” Miss Craig asked her. “Put an old wood stove out in the back yard, the way I do, and let it sizzle along. Goodbye, everybody.”
“Come down and play tennis with us,” called Doris.
“Go ’long, child.” Becky chuckled. “How would I look hopping around, slapping at those little balls! Come on, Ella Lou.”