And they was lots of
kids considerably bothered all the time with their
parents and relations. They made 'em go to
Sunday School, and wash up reg'lar all over on
Saturday nights, and put on shoes and stockings
part of the time, even in the summer, and some of
'em had to ast to go in swimming, and the hull thing
was a continuous trouble and privation to 'em.
But they wasn't nothing perdicted of me, and I
done like it was perdicted. Everybody 'lowed
from the start that Hank would of made trash
out'n me, even if I hadn't showed all the signs of
being trash anyhow. And if they was devilment
anywhere about that town they all says, "Danny,
he done it." And like as not I has. So I gets to
be what you might call an outcast. All the kids
whose folks ain't trash, their mothers tells 'em not
to run with me no more. Which they done it all
the more fur that reason, on the sly, and it makes
me more important with them.
But when I gets a little bigger, all that makes me
feel kind o' bad sometimes. It ain't so handy
then. Fur folks gets to saying, when I would come
around:
"Danny, what do YOU want?"
And if I says, "Nothing," they would say:
"Well, then, you get out o' here!"
Which they needn't of been suspicioning nothing
like they pertended they did, fur I never stole
nothing more'n worter millions and mush millions
and such truck, and mebby now and then a chicken
us kids use to roast in the woods on Sundays, and
jest as like as not it was one of Hank's hens then,
which I figgered I'd earnt it.
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