Young Ried could not have done it, for he realized the folly of
supposing that Nimble Dick ever read anything. By just so much was Mrs.
Roberts ahead of him. She supposed that these boys had their literature,
and read it, and perhaps met somewhere on occasion and read together.
This made it possible for her to ask surprising questions with honest
face.
"Bless me!" said Nimble Dick, startled into an upright posture; "oh, no,
mum, never."
And even Dirk Colson laughed at the expression on his face.
"Still I think you would enjoy it, after a little practice, and I can't
help fancying you would make a good reader."
The boys were all laughing now, Nimble Dick with the rest.
"You're in for an awful blunder there," he said, good-naturedly. "I'm
like Black Dirk, never had no chances, and didn't do nothin' worth
speakin' of with them that I had. Why, bless your body, mum! I can't
even read to myself! I make the awfulest work you ever heard of spellin'
out the show-bills. I have to get Black Dirk to help me; and him and me
is a team."
By this time Dirk's face had lost its smile, and his fierce eyes were
flashing; but the hostess was serene.
"That doesn't prove anything against my statement. I was speaking of
what _could_ be, not necessarily of what was.
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