Noon-time the girls used to count the seeds:
"One I love, two I love, three my love I see;
Four I love with all my heart, and five I cast away.
Six he loves; seven she loves; eight . . . eight . . . "
I forget what eight is, and all that follows after. And then the
others would tease her with, "Aw, Jennie!" knowing who it was she
had named the apple for, Wes. Rinehart, or 'Lonzo Curl, or whoever.
And you'd be standing there by the stove, kind of grinning and not
thinking of anything in particular when somebody would hit you a
clout on your back that just about broke you in two, and would tell
you "to pass it on," and you'd pass it on, and the next thing was
you'd think the house was coming down. Such a chasing around and
over benches, and upsetting the water-bucket, and tearing up Jack
generally that teacher would say, "Boys! boys! If you can't play
quietly, you'll have to go out of doors!" Play quietly! Why, the
idea! What kind of play is it when you are right still?
Outdoors in the country, you can whoop and holler, and carry on,
and nobody complains to the board of health. And there are so many
things you can do. If there is just the least little fall of snow
you can make a big wheel, with spokes in it, by your tracking. I
remember that it was called "fox and geese," but that's all I can
remember about it.
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