"I guess I will let Billy stay here ten minutes."
"And pray for them which despitefully use you—"
"I guess I will take Billy out now!" And Sammy ran towards the prisoner.
"Billy, are you hurt?"
Billy turned his head away, ashamed to speak.
"Let me take your foot out."
Billy's foot was about as fat as a bear's in July, and it came hard. He shook his head. His tongue stuck to his mouth like a clam to his shell, and moved not. Neither could he step.
"I will take you on my back, Billy!" said Sammy.
And that's the way they went home. Billy in his dress generally looked like a seal standing on his hind flippers, and Sammy resembled one also—nevertheless it was a pleasant sight.