She went on to say that it was a pity he wouldn't stand on his head when he slept.
"Then I could see if your skull was as holler as I believe it is," she told him.
Lute heard me as I passed him and woke up.

The "potato cellar" closed with a snap and he seized the rake handles with both hands.
"I was takin' a sort of observation," he explained hurriedly.

"Figgerin' whether I'd better begin here or over by the barn.

Oh, it's you, Roscoe, is it! Land sakes! I thought first 'twas Dorindy.

Where you bound ?" "Up to the village," I said.
"Ain't goin' to the post-office, be you ?" "I may; I don't know." Lute sighed.