ay seeds in it, and
another kind of spice of an unknown name. Willy intended to obey his
mother, and beware of Gideon; but who had ever told him to beware of
Gideon's gingerbread? Gid might be bad, but surely the gingerbread
wasn't! Moreover, if nobody ate it, it would get stepped on in the road,
and wasted. So to save it Willy opened his mouth and began to nibble. No
harm in that--was there?

"Wan't to go swimming, Billy?"

Willy was walking along as fast as he could, but of course he must
answer a civil question.

"No. Don't know how to swim."

"Who s'posed you did--a little fellow like you?" said Gid, in a
warm-hearted tone, as he dropped nimbly down from the tree, and alighted
on his head. "Come 'long o' me, and I'll show you how."

Willy's eyes sparkled,--he didn't know it, but they did,--and he drew in
his breath with a "Whew!" Not that he had the least idea of going with
Gid; but the very thought of it was perfectly bewitching. How often he
had teased his two brothers to teach him to swim! and they wouldn't. He
was always too young, and they never could stop. They thought he was a
baby; but Gid didn't think so. Ah, Gid knew better than that.

CHAPTER VI.

THE BOY THAT MEANT TO MIND HIS MOTHER.

"Come on, Billy Button."

"O, Gid Noonin, I can't."

"Why not? Got the cramp?"

"Look here, Gid."

"Well, I'm looking."

"Now, Gid Noonin!"

"Yes; that's my name!"

"I shan't go a step!"

"So I wouldn't," returned Gid, coolly. "I only asked you for fun."

"O--h! H'm! Are you going to swim in the brook or the river?"

"Brook, you goosie. Prime place down there by the old willow tree.
Don't you wish I'd let you go?"

"No; for my mother says--"

"O, _does_ she, though?"

"My mother says--"

"Lor, now, Billy Button!"

"Hush, Gid; my mother says--"

"A pretty talking woman your mother is!" struck in Gid, squinting his
eyes.

What a witty creature Gid was! Willy could hardly keep from laughing.

"Can't you let me speak, Gid Noonin? My mother says she won't--"

"Says she _won't_? That's real wicked kind of talk! I'm ashamed of your
mother!"

Willy laughed. Gid did have _such_ a way of making up faces!

"Come on, you little girl-baby! Guess I _will_ take you, if you won't
cry."

Willy laughed again. It was not at all painful, but extremely funny, to
hear Gid call names, for he never did it in a provoking way at all.

"Come along, you little tip end of a top o' my thumb."

"No,