"
"He 'd better never hear tell of it," was the threatening
rejoinder.
CHAPTER XVI
THE HUMBLE PETITION
Billy, sitting in an old buggy in front of the livery stable, had
just engaged in a long and interesting conversation with Sam Lamb.
He was getting out of the vehicle when the sharp wire around a
broken rod caught in the back of his trousers and tore a great
hole. He felt a tingling pain and looked over his shoulder to
investigate. Not being satisfied with the result, he turned his
back to the negro and anxiously enquired, "Is my breeches tore,
Sam?"
"Dey am dat," was the reply, "dey am busted Fm Dan ter
Beersheba."
"What I goin' to do 'bout it?" asked the little boy, "Aunt
Minerva sho' will be mad. These here's branspankin' new
trousers what I ain't never wore tell today. Ain't you got a
needle an' thread so's you can fix 'em. Sam?"
"Nary er needle," said Sam Lamb.
"Is my union suit tore, too?" and Billy again turned his
back for inspection.
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