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"'Course it's a lot too much. S'pose we try on' get hold of some of it, Bill?" "Well, I'm goin' to do my duty by you both, allars," Mrs. Wilson spoke in matter-of-fact tones, as she reached for her sewing-basket. "When I feel you need checkin' up, Tom Wilson, checked you're goin' to be, an' when Willium needs a hidin' he's goin' to get a hidin'. An'," she added, as her husband got up from his chair, saying something about having to turn the horses out to pasture, "you needn't try to side-track me from my duty neither." Billy grinned sheepishly. "We should'a killed 'em, I s'pose," he said, "but we took 'em down to the marsh an' turned 'em loose there. Maurice said that anythin' that had done the good work them weasels had, deserved life, an' I thought so too.".
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Croaker shooked his head and hopped to the ground. He had grown tired of having Billy put that question to him. With many throaty and indignant mutterings he pigeontoed across the yard, not even deigning to glance back at the laughing man and boy. "A pile of good your talkin''ll do," she cried. "I'm goin' to talk things over with that boy with a hickory ram-rod, jest as soon as I feel he's proper asleep; that's what I'm goin' to do! Who's trainin' that boy, you er me?" she demanded. "There, there," cried the big-hearted woman, "of course it did." "Well, jest you wait till Ma asks him why he did it," laughed Maurice, who now was almost normal again. "Ma's great on gettin' explanations, she is.".
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