The two boys went down the
stairs with tremulous hearts.
"Why, you've put on another clean shirt, Rossie!" Mrs. Pryor called
from her chair--mothers' eyes can see so far! "Well--don't get into
any dirty play and soil it." The boys walked in silence--but it was a
pregnant silence; for as the roof of the Claiborne house began to peer
above the crest of the hill, Ross plumped down on a stone and
announced, "I ain't goin'."
"Come on," urged the black-eyed boy. "It'll be fun--and everybody will
respect us more. Champe won't throw rocks at us in recess-time, after
we've called on her. She couldn't."
"Called!" grunted Ross. "I couldn't make a call any more than a cow.
What'd I say? What'd I do? I can behave all right when you just go to
people's houses--but a call!"
Abner hesitated. Should he give away his brilliant inside information,
drawn from the _Hints and Helps_ book, and be rivalled in the glory of
his manners and bearing? Why should he not pass on alone, perfectly
composed, and reap the field of glory unsupported? His knees gave way
and he sat down without intending it.
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