That home-returning infant painfully disengaged himself, his slate, his books, and his small dinner-pail half filled with fruit as immature as himself, and came towards them sideways.
"Yer's a dime, Johnny, to git some candy," said Seth, endeavoring to distort his passion-set face into a smile.
Johnny Filgee's small, berry-stained palm promptly closed over the coin.
"Now, don't lie.

Where's Cressy ?" "Kithin' her bo." "Good boy.

What bo ?" Johnny hesitated.

He had once seen the school-master and Cressy together; he had heard it whispered by the other children that they loved each other.

But looking at Seth and Mrs.McKinstry he felt that something more tremendous than this stupid fact was required of him for grown-up people, and being honest and imaginative, he determined that it should be worth the money.
"Speak up, Johnny, don't be afeard to tell." Johnny was not "afeard"-- he was only thinking.