Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

home and dressed. I had wished over and over again that I hadn’t promised that we’d come out. I know King didn’t want us out, or if he did, he would think that we were merely hunting for an invitation and would be judged us accordingly. But, as Bill hadn’t said much against, I decided that we might as well go. I was rather overjoyed when I went over after him and saw him attired in his oldest clothes. We both said it almost at the same time that we wouldn’t go out.
With this in view we went over to our house to telephone Kane. I was glad when Ruth answered the phone and I could merely tell her we weren’t coming out, for I would have to give King reasons, of which I could not think. And I cannot think of any.
“Well what are we going to do” I remarked as I hung up “I just wonder what King thinks of us.”
“Hard to tell. Not very elevating anyway”
“Let’s go to the woods”
“I wish we knew where to borrow a gun. You haven’t one?”
“No. Jim had one but sold it to Mr. Rich across the way.
“He’s a rump-fed for doing that. He might have known we wanted it.”