I feared him but regarded him with great hope because he had a funny way of winking at me with one eye across the table and, further, because he could sing and did sing while he worked--songs that rattled from his lips in a way that amused me greatly.

Then, too, he could rip out words that had a new and wonderful sound in them.

I made up my mind that he was likely to become a valuable asset when I heard Aunt Deel say to my Uncle Peabody: "You'll have to send that loafer away, right now, ayes I guess you will." "Why ?" "Because this boy has learnt to swear like a pirate--ayes--he has!" Uncle Peabody didn't know it but I myself had begun to suspect it, and that hour the man was sent away, and I remember that he left in anger with a number of those new words flying from his lips.

A forced march to the upper room followed that event.

Uncle Peabody explained that it was wicked to swear--that boys who did it had very bad luck, and mine came in a moment.