“Let’s mesmerize Goose-Grease,” yelled Jimmy, as he turned the stream of water full upon him.

Frances, Lina, and Billy clapped their hands and laughed for joy.

With a terrified and angry shriek their victim, dripping water at every step, ran howling by his tormentors.  When he reached a safe distance he turned around, shook a fist at them, and screamed back: 

“My papa is going to have you all arrested and locked up in the calaboose.”

“Calaboose, nothing!” jeered Jimmy.  “You all time wanting to put somebody in the calaboose ’cause they mesmerize you.  You got to be mesmerized ’cause it’s in the Bible.”

A short, stout man, dressed in neat black clothes, was coming toward them.

“Oh, that’s the Major!” screamed Billy delightedly, taking the hose and squaring himself to greet his friend of the train, but Jimmy jerked it out of his hand, before either of them noticed him turning about, as if for something forgotten.

“You ain’t got the sense of a one-eyed tadpole, Billy,” he said.  “That’s Miss Minerva’s beau.  He’s been loving her more ’n a million years.  My mama says he ain’t never going to marry nobody a tall ’thout he can get Miss Minerva, and Miss Minerva she just turns up her nose at anything that wears pants.  You better not sprinkle him.  He’s been to the war and got his big toe shot off.  He kilt ‘bout a million Injuns and Yankees and he’s name’ Major ’cause he’s a Confed’rit vetrun.  He went to the war when he ain’t but fourteen.”

“Did he have on long pants?” asked Billy.  “I call him Major Minerva—­”

“Gladys Maude’s got the pennyskeeters,” broke in Frances importantly, fussing over her baby, “and I’m going to see Doctor Sanford.  Don’t you think she looks pale, Jimmy?”

“Pale, nothing!” sneered the little boy.  “Girls got to all time play their dolls are sick.  Naw; I don’t know nothing a tall ’bout your Gladys Maude.”

Lina gazed up the street.

“That looks like Miss Minerva to me ’way up yonder,” she remarked.  “I think we had better get away from here before she sees us.”

Two little girls rolling two doll buggies fairly flew down the street and one little boy quickly climbed to the top of the dividing fence.  From this safe vantage point he shouted to Billy, who was holding the nozzle of the hose out of which poured a stream of water.

“You ’d better turn that water off ’cause Miss Minerva’s going to be madder ’n a green persimmon.”

“I do’ know how to,” said Billy forlornly.  “You turnt it on.”

“Drop the hose and run to the hydrant and twist that little thing at the top,” screamed Jimmy.  “You all time got to perpose someping to get little boys in trouble anyway,” he added ungenerously.

“You perposed this yo’self,” declared an indignant Billy.  “You said Aunt Minerva’s so ’ligious she wouldn’t git mad.”

“Christian womans can get just as mad as any other kind,” declared the other boy, sliding from his perch on the fence and running across his lawn to disappear behind his own front door.