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Words: 26553 in 16 pages
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PAGE
BROTHER BILLY
Billy was cross. The twins from Grand Rapids who were living in the green cottage wanted him to play Indians on the beach. The boy from Detroit, whose mother didn't know where he was half the time, had been teasing him to go swimming. 'Phonse LeBrinn, child of Mackinaw, was throwing stones at the boat-house, a signal Billy well understood. When 'Phonse had a plan that promised more fun than usual, he always threw stones at the boat-house. Other boys came to the door and rang the bell or knocked when they wanted Billy. 'Phonse knew better. Billy longed to find out what was on his mind, but it wouldn't do to let any one know that the ragged little playmate had a particular reason for throwing stones.
Suddenly a light dawned on Billy's face. "Mamma," said he, "let me go down on the beach and tell Frenchy he must quit that, he'll spoil the paint. I won't be gone but a minute."
"Now, see here," remonstrated Billy's mother, "never mind what 'Phonse is doing, and keep away from the window, Billy, so he won't see you. Come, child, Aunt Florence will soon be ready."
"Oh, shoot the luck! I don't want to go with Aunt Florence. I want to play with the boys. What made Betty go and tell her all about old fort relics, I'd like to know."
"Hush, hush, Billy! Aunt Florence may hear you."
"Well, but, mamma, I don't want to go to the old fort and dig beads all the afternoon. It's too warm. I'm roasting."
Billy's mother laughed. One look at the child's face was enough to make anybody laugh. He was so cross. "Maybe auntie won't care to stay long, Billy. Strangers who are not accustomed to our woods often feel pretty lonesome at the old fort."
"She'll stay, mamma; I know all about bead-diggers; they stay and stay. Besides that, she won't be afraid, because there are about a million thousand resorter folks up there every day digging relics. I wish that Betty had kept something to herself. She just reads that old Pontiac's history all the time, and then tells all she knows to anybody that wants to find out. She makes me tired. I don't like to go to the old fort, anyway."
"Why not, Billy?"
"'Cause everybody up there that don't know you asks questions. They say, 'There's a little boy, ask him;' then 'cause you don't want to talk, they say, 'Lost your tongue,' and silly things like that. Aunt Florence is a question asker, too, mamma. Oh, shoot the luck!"
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