my aunt Janet isn't as queer as some. Rather guess
if she saw me with curls like a little girl she'd cut
'em off herself."

"Wish she was my aunt," said Arnold Carruth
with a sigh. "A feller needs a woman like that till
he's grown up. Do you s'pose she'd cut off my curls
if I was to go to your house, Johnny?"

"I'm afraid she wouldn't think it was right unless
your mother said she might. She has to be real
careful about doing right, because my uncle Jonathan
used to preach, you know."

Arnold Carruth grinned savagely, as if he endured
pain. "Well, I s'pose I'll have to stand the curls and
little baby stockings awhile longer," said he. "What
was it you were going to tell me, Johnny?"

"I am going to tell you because I know you aren't
too good, if you do wear curls and little stockings."

"No, I ain't too good," declared Arnold Carruth,
proudly; "I ain't -- HONEST, Johnny."

"That's why I'm going to tell you. But if you
tell any of the other boys -- or girls --"

"Tell girls!" sniffed Arnold.