Mitch Miller | Page 3

that he had to stand up twice

to make a shadow. So he set there and nothin' much was said. I was
afraid to ask him to swing, or to go to the barn, or anything. By and by
he asked me if I had read "Little Men." I said no. Then he asked me if I
had read the Pansy series. I said no to that; then he asked me if I
subscribed to "Our Youth," which was a boys' paper full of good stories
about nice girls and boys. I'd never heard of it. Then he asked me if I
liked to play ball, and of course I did. And he said he had a ball ground
in his orchard and to come over some time. Myrtle, my sister, liked
nice boys, but she thought Bob was not the right kind of nice. But ma
urged the friendship on me. And so it began.
And I must say Bob was a good boy, and I have no complaints to make;
but I didn't know Mitch then, and so didn't see the difference so much.
Well, Bob liked me and he kept havin' me over to his house. He had a
big yard with trees in it, and a fountain with a stone figure of a little
boy, not much clothes on, holdin' an urn. Bob's pa was the leadin'
member of the Baptist Church and awful strict; and as Mitch's father
was a Congregational preacher, Mr. Pendleton didn't like him on
account of differin' with him about baptism.
Bob's house was just full of fine things--oil paintings of his father and
mother, his sisters and himself; fine furniture all in horsehair; lots of
silver for the table; and they kept two girls and had had 'em for years;
and Mrs. Pendleton watched Bob very careful so he wouldn't catch cold
or anything, because he had a weak chest. And Bob would take me
down to his father's store where we got raisins and candy, and we
played ball in the orchard.
Everything Bob had was brand new, and you had to be careful of it. He
had a new ball; and on the day I met Mitch we was pitchin' ball--Bob
and me, in the orchard--and Bob kept saying to be careful and not let it
roll in the grass or get in the mud, that he wanted to keep it white and
clean. Well, of course, I missed now and then and Bob seemed
displeased. And when it rolled into the mud he came up and took the
ball and wiped it off and looked mad. Just then he said: "There comes
that Mitch Miller, and I think we'd better quit playin' anyway." I knew
Mitch's name and had seen him, but we hadn't run together yet.

Mitch climbed over the fence into the orchard, and Bob began to kind a
move away. I could see that Bob didn't want him, for he said, "Come
on, Arthur." Everybody called me Skeet, though my name was Arthur,
which I hated. Bob always called me Arthur and made me call him
Robert, though his nickname was "Shadder." When Bob said to come
on to me, Mitch says, "Wait a minute, Skeet, I've somethin' to tell you."
So I said to Bob, "Wait a minute, Robert," and Bob said, "You're
comin' now or not at all." That made me mad, so I stood there. Bob
went on and Mitch came up.
[Illustration: Mitch Climbed over the Fence]
"Let him go," said Mitch. "You don't care, do you?"
"Not much," says I.
"Well, I hope not," says Mitch. "He's a sissy--spoiled by his ma. And
you don't call this any fun, do you, pitchin' ball with a ball so good that
you dassn't let it roll on the ground? Now, I've seen you around, Skeet,
and I like you, and if you like me, we'll be chums, and go havers on
everything, and if anybody fights you he'll have to fight me, and the
same way with me, and I'll bet we'll have more fun together in a day
than you could have with Shadder Pendleton in a year. Do you agree?"
I said, "Yes, I agree," for I liked Mitch--I liked his name, I liked his
way, and his face, his voice, everything about him right then; and I
knew what I was promisin'.
Mitch says, "Do you want to have some fun?" I says, "You bet I do."
"Well," Mitch says, "there's more goin' on in this town than you ever
saw, if you only keep your eyes open. But I'll bet Shadder never hears
of it, and if you run with him you'll never hear of it either. Do you
know what's goin' to happen to-day?" "No," says I.
"Well,"