"Look here, Billy, what you up to this afternoon? Going anywhere?"
"Only up to the store, I guess. Why?"
"O, nothing partic'lar. Just asked for fun."
"Well, give back that piece of chalk," said Willy, "for it isn't mine. Steve keeps it in his pocket to rub his shoe-buckles with."
Gideon laughed, but would not return the chalk till he had whitened Willy's jacket with it and the top of his hat. He never seemed to mean any harm, but just to be running over with good-natured, silly mischief.
Willy ran home whistling; but when he saw his father standing in the front entry, his tune grew a little slower, and then stopped. Mr. Parlin was rather stern with his children, and did not like to have them make much noise in the house.
"Well, my son, so you have brought home the medal again. That's right,—that's right."
Willy took off his hat when his father spoke to him, and answered, "Yes, sir," with a respectful bow.
There were two or three men standing in the doorway which led into the bar-room.
"How d'ye do, my fine little lad?" said one of the men; "and what is your name?"