"
"Aw, you never had a birthday," answered the teamster. "You was jest
mixed up and baked, like gingerbread."
"Or a lemon pie," said the carpenter, with obvious sarcasm.
"Wal, holidays are awful hard for some little folks to digest," said
Jim. "I'm kind of scared to see another come along."
"I should think to-night is pretty near holiday enough," said the
altered Miss Doc. "Our little boy has come 'round delightful."
"Kerrect," said Bone. "But if us old cusses could see him sort of
laughin' and crowin' it would do us heaps of good."
"Give him time," said the teamster. "Some of the sickenest crowin' I
ever heard was let out too soon."
The carpenter said, "You jest leave him alone with these here blocks
for a day or two, if you want to hear him laugh."
"'Ain't we all laughed at them things enough to suit you yit?" inquired
Bone. "Some people would want you to laugh at their funeral, I reckon."
"Wal, laughin' ain't everything there is worth the havin'," Jim
drawled. "Some people's laughin' has made me ashamed, and some has
made me walk with a limp, and some has made me fightin' mad. When
little Skeezucks starts it off--I reckon it's goin' to make me a boy
again, goin' in swimmin' and eatin' bread-and-molasses.
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