Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/90

WAR "Thank you, Davy," says I, pleased. "Shake hands on it?"

"You bet me I will," says Dave. "I'm not much of a fighter, anyhow. I expect I'm too lazy to lick or get licked. But I'm not going to war unless there's some one behind me pushing. Forget it. They can't make me. I'm not of age. I don't know what it's about. And where in hell's Jonthy? Here I come home to fish with him, and he don't come home and fish with me. It won't be like old times till Jonthy takes me on his back fishing—will it, daddy?"

"No," says I.

"And catches all the fish?"

"Yes."

"Daddy," says Dave, "you've heard of songs without words, I expect?"

"Yes, Davy."

"Well, daddy, when I fish, that's fishing without fish—not?"

And he sings another song—brought up from Virginia, I expect. 74