File:Bob, son of Battle (1898) (14796423913).jpg

Identifier: bobsonofbattleolli (find matches)
Title: Bob, son of Battle
Year: 1898 (1890s)
Authors: Ollivant, Alfred, 1874-1927
Subjects:
Publisher: Garden City, N.Y. : Garden City Pub. Co.
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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he, too, was engagedin a task twin to the girls. The two children munched away in silence, the littlebare-legged boy watching them the while, critically.Irritated by this prolonged stare, David at length turnedon him. Weel, little Andrew, he said, speaking in thatpaternal fashion in which one small boy loves to addressanother. Weel, ma little lad, yom cooming alonggradely. He leant back in his chair the better tocriticise his subject. But Andrew, like all the Moores,slow of speech, preserved a stolid silence, sucking a chubbythumb, and regarding his patron a thought cynically. David resented the expression on the boys countenance,and half rose to his feet. Yo put another face on yo, Andrew Moore, he criedthreateningly, or Ill put it for yo. Maggie, however, interposed opportunely. Did yo fether beat yo last night? she inquired in alow voice; and there was a shade of anxiety in the softbrown eyes. Nay, the boy answered; he was a-goin to, but henever did. Drunk, he added in explanation.
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Bob played and laughed, and teased old Whitecap, till that graygander all but expired of apoplexy and impotence. THE GRAY DOG 7 What was he goin to beat yo for, David? askedMrs. Moore. What for? Why, for the fun ot—to see me squiggle,the boy replied, and laughed bitterly. Yo shouldna speak so o your dad, David, reprovedthe other as severely as was in her nature. Dad! a fine dad! Id dad him an Id the chance,the boy muttered beneath his breath. Then, to turn theconversation: Us should be startin, Maggie, he said, and goingto the door. Bob! Owd Bob, lad! Art coominalong? he called. The gray dog came springing up like an antelope, andthe three started ofT for school together. Mrs. Moore stood in the doorway, holding Andrew bythe hand, and watched the departing trio. Tis a pretty pair, Master, surely, she said softly toher husband, who came up at the moment. Ay, hell be a fine lad if his fetherll let him, the tallman answered. Tis a shame Mr. MAdam should lead him such alife, the woman c

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