"
Ned passed the hat, all contributing.
"That makes forty cents. Here, Professor, you haven't put in your ten
yet. It'll take just fifty cents to paste up Juan's injuries."
"That reminds me of a fellow I heard about once," announced Stacy.
"Are you going to tell a story?" questioned Ned.
"If you will keep still long enough," replied Stacy.
"Then me for the bunch grass. It's like going to a funeral to hear
Chunky try to tell a story."
"Let him tell it," shouted the lads.
"Go on, Chunky. Never mind Ned. He'll laugh when he gets back to
Chillicothe," jibed Walter.
"I heard of a fellow once--"
"Yes; you told us that before," jeered Ned.
"Not the one we ducked in the spring, was it?" grinned Tad.
"Who's telling this story?" demanded Stacy belligerently.
"You are, I guess. I won't interrupt again."
"Well, did I say this fellow was a boy?"
"No."
"Well, he was-- he's grown up now. He rushed into a drug store--"
"Was anything chasing him?" asked Ned innocently.
Stacy gave no heed to the interruption.
"And he said to the man in the store, 'Please, sir, some liniment and
some cement?'"
"'What?' asked the clerk all in a muddle. You see, he'd never had a
prescription like that to fill before. It made him tired, 'cause he
thought the kid was making fun of him."
"'What-- what's the trouble? What do you want liniment and cement
for?'
"'Cause,' said the boy to the pill man, ''cause mom hit pop on the
head with a plate.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73