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Pee-Wee Harris by Percy Keese Fitzhugh
page 67 of 137 (48%)
smooth highway.

"Don't you be scared of it," Pee-Wee said.

"You're as bad as Licorice Stick. Those old boards don't know what
they're talking about. I wouldn't be scared of what anything said
unless it was alive, that's sure."

"They voted not to build a new bridge for two years because they've
got to build a new schoolhouse," said Pepsy. "That's because this county
hasn't got much money. I'll be glad when they build it; the floor's
going to be made out of stone; like--"

"You mean the bridge?"

"Yes, and I wish they'd hurry up. Every night I hear that and I know
boards tell the truth, because if a door squeaks that means you're going
to get married."

"All you need is an oil can to keep from getting married then," said
Pee-Wee, "because if you oil a door it won't squeak. So there; lets
hear you answer that argument."

There was no answer to that argument; keeping single was just a
matter of lubrication; but just the same that appalling sentence which
had become fixed in Pepsy's mind, haunted her, especially when she lay on
her feather mattress in the yellow painted bed up in her little room.

She was just about to go in when they were aroused by a sound in the
distance. Pee-Wee thought it was an auto and he made ready to deliver
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