man that'll eat seven taters-"

"Shows who docs the work."

"Yes, with his jaws," put in Jim Wheelock, the driver. "If you'd put
in a little more work with soap 'n' water before comin' in to dinner,
it 'ud be a religious idee," said David.

"It ain't healthy to wash."

"Well, you'll live forever, then."

"He ain't washed his face sence I knew 'im."

"Oh, that's a little too tought! He washes once a week," said Ed
Kinney.

"Back of his ears?" inquired David, who was munching a
doughnut, his black eyes twinkling with fun.

"What's the cause of it?"

"Dade says she won't kiss 'im if he don't." Everybody roared.

"Good fer Dade! I wouldn't if I was in her place."

Wheelock gripped a chicken leg imperturbably, and left it bare as a
toothpick with one or two bites at it. His face shone in two clean
sections around his nose and mouth. Behind his ears the dirt lay
undisturbed. The grease on his hands could not be washed off.