"Pick up's" cried Freckles. And immediately the grubby youngster scrambled for
the marbles in the ring, crudely scratched on the packed cinder of the alley.
"James Freckles Jones" declared Katie, rising to her proud height of three feet,
eight and one half inches measured by the school nurse, "I don't like how you play
marbles. 'Taint fair to cry "Pick up's" just 'cause I'm beatin' you. If you can't play fair I'm
going in and I'll never play with you again -- never, never, never -- so there. -- And you
can't play in my alley neither."
"Ow, who wants to play with a girl nohow," cried Freckles scornfully, as Katie
strode majestically but dirty into the house.
But 'er long Freckles was calling, "Katie, Katie, come on out and play. Won't
"Play like I want you too?"
"You can't play pick up's or use your big steely."
"Aw, that's sissy," protested Freckles.
"I won't play if you don't play like I want you to."
"Aw -- alright."
"Cross your heart and hope to die you won't play pick up" demanded Katie,
coming out finally to the marble ring.
"Cross my heart and hope ---"
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