Cleo shrugged her bare shoulders—her shoulders were always bare—and resumed her plea to have poor Romeo and Juliet maimed and disfigured for life. All the horses were talking about it, and the blacks were terrified half to death.
"I hope it is no worse than having one's mouth cut back and eye whipped out," said Topsy.
"May be it don't hurt at all," said John, and we all tried to comfort the intended victims by this hopeful suggestion.
It was a cool, May morning, some months later, when a couple of strange men came to the farm, and, under their supervision, Chet and the hired man began to build a queer looking structure of heavy timbers.
(The doctors were off at a convention, to be gone several days.)
By and by Bobby came out wringing her hands, her yellow curls all tumbled about her tear-stained face, and begging, first her brother, then the strangers, not to do something, I could not hear what.
All the men laughed but Chet; he bade her go in the house and not be bothering with what was none of her business.
Then her temper got the mastery, and she called him "a cruel wretch," and told him he was bad enough before he married the "wizened fool from Boston," but was worse now.
At this, he grew angry, and, grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her into the house.
She was back, however, almost as soon as he was, and turning up her loose white sleeve, she exhibited a plump arm bearing blue finger marks.