Half-Past Seven Stories Part 8

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And so all through marble time they played many games, some of them very close, too, and a few even ties.

However, on one occasion the game didn't turn out so well. That was the time when Fatty Hamm strolled into the yard.

"h.e.l.lo!" he said, and something c.h.i.n.ked in his pockets. It sounded like marbles.

"h.e.l.lo!" called the boys, not very cordially, for they were always a little suspicious when Fatty happened around.

"Playin' marbles?" he asked.

"Yes," said the two brothers.

"I can beat you," he declared.

"You can't, either," Marmaduke started to yell, but Jehosophat, who was having one of his good days, said,--

"Let's treat him politely. He's mean, but he's company."

"Play 'for fair'?" Fatty next asked.

"Course," replied Jehosophat, "what did you think?"

This friendly state of affairs didn't last very long.

"You're cheating," called Jehosophat a little later.

"I'm not, neither," Fatty shouted very angrily and ungrammatically.

"You are, too," insisted Jehosophat. "The Toyman says you mustn't get over the marbles that way or put your foot in the ring. You've got to 'knuckles down.' Beside you call' slippseys' every time you make a bad shot."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Better than slipping ducks' eggs under the ole hen, isn't it?' whispered Jehosophat to his brother."]

When that strange game was over Fatty had forty-two marbles and they had only nine apiece. Altogether it was very unsatisfactory.

Then something very surprising happened.

Fatty counted the forty-two very carefully, then put them in his bag.

"Here," said Jehosophat, "what are you doing?"

"I won 'em, they're mine," and still Fatty kept putting them in his bag. Marmaduke could hear them dropping in. "c.h.i.n.k, c.h.i.n.k," they went, but their "c.h.i.n.k, c.h.i.n.k" didn't sound so pretty or so much like music as when they were dropping in his own bag.

"That's not the way the Toyman plays," Jehosophat insisted, "when we're through we divide 'em up again so's to be even."

"Your ole Toyman doesn't know everything," Fatty said with a sneer.

And, angry at this, both the brothers shouted,--

"He does, too--he knows most everything there is to know."

But Fatty decided things once and for all.

"Anyway," he declared, "this game's not 'in fun.' You said you'd play 'for fair' and that means 'for keeps.'"

Jehosophat was silent. He hadn't understood what 'for fair' had meant at all. Still, he had agreed to play that way, and so, though he wanted to punch Fatty's head for him, he supposed he'd have to take his losses like a gentleman.

But now Fatty was taking something out of his pocket, something made of wood and shaped like a bridge or a saw with teeth in it. He placed it on the ground.

"Your turn, Joshy," he said.

"What'll I do?" asked Jehosophat.

"Just roll your marbles under this bridge, and if they go through the little holes, you can keep 'em. If they don't, they're mine."

The two boys didn't see through the trick, and very foolishly they thought they might win some of their beautiful marbles back.

So they rolled marble after marble against that little wooden bridge.

But it was much harder to aim straight than they had expected. More marbles would hit against the wood and bounce back than ever went through the little holes. And when this strange new game was ended Fatty had fifty-two marbles and they each had four!

Then Fatty walked off.

"Nice game," he said, "I'll come tomorrow."

But the boys didn't second that or give him any warm invitation like saying, "yes, and stay a week." They spoke never a word--just looked and listened--looked at the few marbles left in their own hands, and listened to the "c.h.i.n.k, c.h.i.n.k, c.h.i.n.k" of Fatty's pockets as he walked down the drive.

They were very solemn around the table that night, and though Mother knew there must be something the matter, she didn't ask any questions yet. However, Marmaduke kept reaching down into his pockets so often, to feel the lonely little marbles he had left,--the one agate, and the croaker, and the little gray mig, and the clink of them sounded so weak and thin and lonesome that Father said,--

"Well, how did the game go today?"

"F-f-f-fine," said Marmaduke, but his lip quivered.

Then they knew there surely must be something the matter, and Marmaduke couldn't help saying,--

"That ole Fatty Hamm said he was playing 'for keeps,' and he took away almost all our marbles."

"Humph!" exclaimed Father, and Mother looked at him with an odd look.

"I'm sorry it happened," she said, "but I'm glad, too."

Jehosophat exclaimed:

"Glad we lost our marbles?"

"Not exactly, dear, but I knew it would happen. You see, as the Toyman said, it's always kinder and more fun, too, to play games 'in fun.' If you play anything 'for keeps,' the one who loses is always hurt and feels badly. Supposing you had played with Johnny Cricket, now, and had won all his marbles--how would you feel?"

She didn't need to say any more. They understood.

But after supper the Toyman called the boys into the woodshed. They sneaked out quietly and he whispered to them,--

"Just wait till tomorrow."

Half-Past Seven Stories Part 8

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Half-Past Seven Stories Part 8 summary

You're reading Half-Past Seven Stories Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Robert Gordon Anderson already has 624 views.

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