"Well, I don't care if I do," says he. So he came out and sat on the grass, and I showed him how to play.
Just then Mr. Travers arrived, and Sue came down, and was awfully glad to see both her friends. "But what in the world are you doing?" she says to Mr. Martin. When she heard that he was learning the game, she said, "How interesting do play one game."
Mr. Martin finally said he would. So we played a game, and I let him beat me very easy. He laughed lit to kill himself when I drew the peg, and said it was the best game he ever played.
"Is there any game you play any better than this, Sonny?" said he, in his most irragravating style.
"Let's have another game," said I. "Only you must promise to draw the peg fair, if I beat you."
"All right," said he. "I'll draw the peg if you beat me, Bub."
O, he felt so sure he was a first-class player. I don't like a conceited man, no matter if he is only a boy.
You can just imagine how quick I beat him. Why, I went right through to "both ears" without stopping, and the first time I threw the knife over my head it stuck in the ground.
I cut a beautiful peg out of hard wood—one of those sharp, slender pegs that will go through anything but a stone. I drove it in clear out of sight, and Mr. Martin, says he, "Why, Sonny, nobody couldn't possibly draw that peg."
"I've drawn worse pegs than that," said I. "You've got to clear away the earth with your chin and front teeth, and then you can draw it."