I guess you’ll think ’t is funny, getting another letter again from me
so soon, but I’m in a hurry to have my father send me some money to have
my skates mended; ask him if he won’t please to send me thirty-three
cents, and we two have made up again and I thought you would like to
know. It had been ’most three days, and we hadn’t been anywhere
together, or spoken hardly, and I hadn’t looked him in the eye, or he
me. Old Wonder Boy he wanted to keep round me all the time, and have
double-runner together. He knew we two hadn’t been such chums as we used
to be, so he came up to me and said, “Billy, I think that Dorry’s a mean
sort of a chap, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” I said. “He don’t know what ’t is to be mean!” For I
wasn’t going to have him coming any Jersey over me!
“O, you needn’t be so spunky about it!” says he.
“I ain’t spunky!” says I.
Then I went into the schoolroom, to study over my Latin Grammar before
school began, and sat down amongst the boys that were all crowding round
the stove. And I was studying away, and didn’t mind ’em fooling round
me, for I’d lost one mark day before, and didn’t mean to lose any more,
for you know what my father promised me, if my next Report improved
much. And while I was sitting there, studying away, and drying my feet,
for we’d been having darings, and W. B. he stumped me to jump on a place
where ’t was cracking, and I went in over tops of boots and wet my feet
sopping wet. And I didn’t notice at first, for I wasn’t looking round
much, but looking straight down on my Latin Grammar, and didn’t notice
that ’most all the boys had gone out. Only about half a dozen left, and
one of ’em was Dorry, and he sat to the right of me, about a yard off,
studying his lesson. Then another boy went out, and then another, and by
and by every one of them was gone, and left us two sitting there. O, we
sat just as still! I kept my head down, and we made believe think of
nothing but just the lesson. First thing I knew he moved, and I looked
up, and there was Dorry looking me right in the eye! And held out his
hand--“How are you, Sweet William?” says he, and laughed some. Then I
clapped my hand on his shoulder, “Old Dorrymas, how are you?” says I.
And so you see we got over it then, right away.
Dorry says he wasn’t asleep that morning, when I stood there, only
making believe. Said he wished I’d pull, then he was going to pull too,
and wouldn’t that been a funny way to make up, pulling hair? He’s had a
letter from Tom Cush and he’s got home, but is going away again, for he
means to be a regular sailor and get to be captain of a great ship. He’s
coming here next week. I hope you won’t forget that thirty-three. I’d
just as lives have fifty, and that would come better in the letter,
don’t you believe it would? That photograph saloon has just gone by, and
the boys are running down to the road to chase it. When Dorry and I sat
there by the stove, it made me remember what Uncle Jacob said about our
picture.
Your affectionate Grandson,