I suppose you will go with us, Clint?"
Clinton hesitated. "No," said he. "I guess not; and I should think if you
want to roast corn, you could get it out of your own gardens. But if Mr.
Carter's corn is better than any other, why can you not ask him----"
"O, come, now," retorted Harry, "do not let it worry you! Half the fun of
roasting corn is in--in taking it. And don't you come, Clinton--don't. We
would not have you for the world. You are too nice, Mr. Coughin."
Clinton's cheeks flushed red, but he turned away without a word. When Mr.
Carter quizzed Billy Matthews, and found out all about it, Clinton was made
very happy by the old man's words: "It is not every chap that will take the
stand you took. You ought to be thankful that you have the strength to say
No."
In the fall, when Clinton was fifteen, his health began to fail noticeably,
and Dr. Bemis advised a little wine "to build him up."
"Mother," said the boy, after thinking it over, "I am not going to touch
any wine. I can get well without it, I know I can. I do not want liquor,"
he continued. "'Wine is a mocker,' you know.
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