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“Now, Mose, fer the elbow. Stiddy! Don’t shove! Don’t pull! Hole her stiddy!” “Hooray, Billy! Thirteen to-morrow! But this is the day we celebrate!” CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG.
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Conrad
“Here, Mose, hoi’ this here jint while I fit the next one inter it.” A tongue-twisting silence ensued. AFTER the disaster of the Fair Ellen, Billy promised his mother to bar explosives from his play, a promise made readily, for “Betsey has been giving it to me good an’ plenty for leaving that door open,” he explained to her. Thus the Alaska trade which the boys intended the Fair Ellen to wrest from Seattle, thereby transferring some of her prosperity to California’s stricken seaport, remained with the northern metropolis; and they sought other outlet for their energies. THE next morning Billy had a “temperature.” His mother decided against school for that day. At first he was glad. He didn’t care if he had forty temperatures. He thought almost anything in the way of fever was cooler than he would feel if the boys—and the girls—should see his face. Not that this was the first time he had been scratched in a fight; before he had not cared who knew. To-day it was different,—there were things about this fight he wished he could forget, even though he knew Jimmy was not likely to die. “Are your going to church?” she asked, disappointment drawing her lips to a tremulous curve..
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