"You can strap him to your own back, Billy."
"But I ain't no squash," objected that little Indian.
"We can have our dolls for papooses," said Lina, going to the
swing where the dolls had been left. Billy pulled a piece of
string from his pocket and the babies were safely strapped to
their mothers' backs. With stately tread, headed by Sitting
Steer, the children marched back and forth across the lawn in
Indian file.
So absorbed were they in playing Indian that they forgot the
flight of time until their chief suddenly stopped, all his
brave valor gone as he pointed with trembling finger up the
street.
That part of the Ladies' Aid Society which lived in West
Covington was bearing down upon them.
"Yonder's our mamas and Miss Minerva," he whispered. "Now look
what a mess Billy's done got us in; he all time got to perpose
someping to get chillens in trouble and he all time got to let
grown folks ketch em."
"Aren't you ashamed to tell such a story, Jimmy Garner?" cried
Frances.
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