Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below.,
[89]“Mother, do come and look at the procession,” Edith called cautiously from the trellises, where she was slyly watching.,
“Some o’ the men was sorft-hearted an’ agin Hingin’ Joner overboard, so they rowed reel hard to git to land.”.
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