Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly wouldn't let anyone. Now don't you see how I'm fixed.
Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say-I'll give you all of my apple
And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangling his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents
He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while- plenty of company- and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out of whitewash, he would have bankrupted every boy in the village.