I 'm so tired my legs wo n't go , and the water in my boots makes them feel dreadfully . I wish that boy would wheel me a piece . Do n't you s ` pose he would ? asked Bab , wearily picking herself up as a tall lad trundling a barrow came out of a yard near by . `` Hullo , Joslyn ! '' said Ben , recognizing the boy as one of the `` hill fellows '' who came to town Saturday nights for play or business . `` Hullo , Brown ! '' responded the other , arresting his squeaking progress with signs of surprise at the moist tableau before him . `` Where goin ' ? '' asked Ben with masculine brevity . `` Got to carry this home , hang the old thing . '' `` Where to ? '' `` Batchelor 's , down yonder , '' and the boy pointed to a farm-house at the foot of the next hill . `` Goin ' that way , take it right along . '' `` What for ? '' questioned the prudent youth , distrusting such unusual neighborliness . `` She 's tired , wants a ride ; I 'll leave it all right , true as I live and breathe , '' explained Ben , half ashamed yet anxious to get his little responsibility home as soon as possible , for mishaps seemed to thicken . `` Ho , you could n't cart her all that way ! she 's most as heavy as a bag of meal , '' jeered the taller lad , amused at the proposition . `` I 'm stronger than most fellers of my size .
Try , if I ai n't , '' and Ben squared off in such scientific style that XXXXX responded with sudden amiability , -- `` All right , let 's see you do it . ''
Bab Batchelor Brown Ho Hullo Joslyn farm-house mishaps nights right