"Don't you let him get away from you," said Aunt Dorcas. "There's no telling what he'd do."
Jeff was in the wagon now, and grandmother was on the point of remarking, "Do?—why, he might run away with that there child, and break his precious neck," when the precise help Bun Gates was wishing for came hurrying through the front gate.
"What you got there, Bun? I'm a-coming. Hold him."
"You hold the shaft on that side, Rube, till we get him aimed right. I want to point him for the front gate, and drive him into the street. We'll have more room there to train him."
"Biggest kind of an idea ever was," said Rube. "I saw a learned pig once. He could play checkers, and count twenty. Smoke a pipe too. He was bigger'n this one."
"This one knows more'n most people now."
"Can't he squeal, though!"
"Audubon," said Mrs. Gates, "I want you to go to the store for me pretty soon. You'll have to take your wagon."
"All right," said Bun.
"Stand back, Rube. Hold on tight, Jeff. He'll make things rattle. Look, mother!"