So
was it to the brood of little yellow goslings, waddling after their
mother. They were out of their shells, and the world was wide.
Added to this same feeling of general contentment with his lot, John Jay
had the peace that came from the certainty that, no matter what he might
do, punishment could not possibly overtake him before nightfall. His
grandmother was always late coming home on Tuesday.
"Wot we all gwine do now?" repeated Bud.
John Jay caught at the low branch of the apple-tree to which the
clothes-line was tied, and drew himself slowly up. He did not reply
until he had turned himself over the limb several times, and hung head
downward by the knees.
"Go snake huntin', I reckon."
"But Mammy said not to take Ivy in the briah-patch again," said Bud
solemnly.
"That's so," exclaimed John Jay, "an' shingle say so too," he added,
with a grin, for his legs still smarted. Loosening the grip of his
knees on the apple-bough, he turned a summersault backward and landed on
his feet as lightly as a cat.
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