Send the old men to do the fighting! For the matter of that, I guess my father'd about a thousand times go himself than see me and my brothers go; but Father's so fat he can't stoop! You got to be able to stoop to dig a trench, I guess! Well, suppose we sent our old men up against those Dutchmen; the Dutchmen would just kill the old men, and then come after the boys anyway, and the boys wouldn't be ready, and they'd get killed, too; and then there wouldn't be anybody but the Dutchmen left, and that'd be one fine world, wouldn't it ?" "Yes," said Ramsey.

"Course I thought of that." "Did you tell her ?" "No." "What did you say ?" "Nothin'.

I couldn't get started anyway, but, besides, what was the use?
But she didn't want the old men to go; she didn't want anybody to go." "What did she want the country to do ?" Fred asked, impatiently.
"Just what it has been doin', I suppose.

Just let things simmer down, and poke along, and let them do what they like to us." "I guess so!" said Fred.

"Then, afterwhile, when they get some free time on their hands, they'll come over and make it _really_ interesting for us, because they know we won't do anything but talk.