Willy laughed again. It was not at all painful, but extremely funny, to hear Gid call names, for he never did it in a provoking way at all.
"Come along, you little tip end of a top o' my thumb."
"No, sir. Shan't go a step!"
Willy was a boy that meant to mind his mother.
"But I s'pose you'll have to go if I take you."
Willy caught himself by the left ear. He felt the need of holding on by something; still he was somehow afraid he should have to go in spite of his ears. Was there ever such a boy as Gid for teasing?
"Why, Gid Noonin, I told you my mother said—"
"No, you didn't! You haven't told me a thing! You stutter so I can't understand a word."
At the idea of his stuttering, Willy laughed outright; and during that moment of weakness was picked up and set astride of Gid's shoulders.
"You put me down! My mother says I shan't play with you; so there!" cried Willy, struggling manfully, yet a little pleased, I must confess, to think he couldn't possibly help himself.