Enoch and Lot Breckenridge, with Robbie Baker, had completed all the plans for the stump burning that first training day at Bennington. Lot, who lived so far from the Harding cabin, agreed to come over the night before if his mother would let him, and Robbie was to remain with Enoch the night after. The stumps and rubbish would be pretty well piled up and fired by afternoon, and then the boys could run races, and play games, and perhaps shoot at a mark, until supper-time. Mrs. Harding had already promised if the boys worked well to make a nice supper for them.
“An’ we’ll have the girls,” said Lot.
“Oh, what good’ll they be at a stump burnin’?” demanded young Baker, ungallantly.
“Lots o’ good. They allus want good times, too,” said Lot, standing up for his sisters manfully. “You have no sisters, an’ that’s why you don’t want ’em.”
“They’ll be in the way. Their frocks’ll git torn if they help us, an’ they’ll git afire–or–or somethin’!”
“Nuck’s sisters will be there. They’ll want other girls,” said the wise Lot. “An’ b’sides, Mis’ Harding’ll be lots better to us if the girls is there. She allus is–my marm is. Mothers like girls, but boys is only a nuisance, they says.” Lot had drawn these conclusions from the remarks of his own mother, who was troubled by many children and lacked that “faculty,” as New England folk used to term it, for bringing them up cheerfully.
“I guess we’ll get a better supper if the girls are there,” admitted Nuck, quietly.
“But what’ll they do?” demanded Robbie, the embryo woman-hater.
“I’ll get mother ter be layin’ out a quilt, or something, an’ the girls can help about that.”
“Zuckers!” cried Lot. “We’ll have the finest time ever was. I’ll be sure an’ tell ev’rybody down my way. An’ we’ll all bring powder an’ shot; it won’t matter so much about guns, for them that don’t have ’em can borry of them that has, when it comes to shootin’.”