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IO
IO JOHNNY BLOSSOM
one wouldn’t be a little angry if, when he was
sitting on a fence not thinking of a thing, some
one should come and poke him in the back with
a long stick?
For that was just the way the trouble began.
He had been walking on his tallest stilts the
whole afternoon—the stilts that were exactly,
to the dot, one yard fifteen inches and a half
tall — and then had sat himself on the fence
along the back alley. He was facing the yard,
with his back toward the alley, and that
disgusting Olsen boy came past and gave him a
dig in the back with that sharp stick. Just
think of it! Wouldn’t anybody say it was
unbearable ?
Like a flash, John had slid down from the
fence and rushed after Tellef; and then came
the fight.
Gracious! how that boy had yelled! Well,
a good pommeling was just what he deserved.
It was rather a pity, though, that there had
come a great split in his jacket and that his
fishpole had got broken to bits in the fight.
Even if it hadn’t ever been a good pole, it was
wonderful how much he caught with it. He
had to catch fish for his mother every single
day. People said that at Tellef’s house they ate
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