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“And you’re my Ladybird sister,” Billy said, very softly for him, and threw his arm about them both. “You bet!” Pretty endorsed, inelegantly. “Yes, he did. And he said, awfully solemn, ‘Remember, Billy, no one but a coward strikes his foe in the back. A boy of mine who could do that,—I don’t think I should wish him to wear this.’ And he pointed to his Loyal Legion button. O mother, I hit Jimmy first, I hit him in the back, and I—I kicked him in the stomach! I’ve disgraced papa’s button forever!” His last words were a groan, and he hid his face..
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“Good-by Dad and Mar and Mosey,” called Betty as she sped down the path toward the school-house. “Miss Gordon, with all his book larnin’ he knowed no more ’bout black-jack than I know ’bout divin’ fer pearls, and the Bullock boys thort he was no good anyhow, ef he couldn’t beat their Par at cards. So one mornin’ they met him as he was goin’ to school, an’ they give him a good beatin’ up, then flung him in Rodd’s creek to cool him, bein’ winter. He crawled outer the creek, Miss Gordon, an’ never went to the school no more. It shorely was a jedgement on him fer playin’ those wicked card games. Moses, parse the ketchup.” The gentle words, the tender touch, the comfort and hope in her words, unlocked his lips and he told what he had thought to keep forever untold. “Gee whack! That’s the hardest work of all,” Billy complimented..
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