"Whoa--Haw!--Gee--Gee--Buck, Gee, I tell ye! I'll knock yo' fool
head off the fust thing you know!"
Still there was no sound of ox or wagon and the voice sounded like
a child's. So he went on at a walk in the thick sand, and when he
turned the bushes he pulled up again with a low laugh. In the road
across the creek was a chubby, tow-haired boy with a long switch
in his right hand, and a pine dagger and a string in his left.
Attached to the string and tied by one hind leg was a frog. The
boy was using the switch as a goad and driving the frog as an ox,
and he was as earnest as though both were real.
"I give ye a little rest now, Buck," he said, shaking his head
earnestly. "Hit's a purty hard pull hyeh, but I know, by Gum, you
can make hit--if you hain't too durn lazy. Now, git up, Buck!" he
yelled suddenly, flaying the sand with his switch. "Git up--Whoa--
Haw--Gee, Gee!" The frog hopped several times.
"Whoa, now!" said the little fellow, panting in sympathy. "I
knowed you could do it." Then he looked up. For an instant he
seemed terrified but he did not run. Instead he stealthily shifted
the pine dagger over to his right hand and the string to his left.
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