Jed, the Poorhouse Boy. Alger Horatio Jr.
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The distance from the poorhouse to Squire Dixon's residence was about three-quarters of a mile. Jed covered it in less than fifteen minutes.
In the front yard Percy Dixon was strutting about with the airy consequence habitual to him.
"What brings you here?" he asked rudely.
"I've come with a note for your father. After I've delivered it I will stop a little while and play with you if you want me to."
"You needn't trouble yourself. I don't care to play with paupers."
"Don't call me that again, Percy Dixon!" said Jed, his patience worn out.
"What will happen if I do?" demanded Percy tauntingly.
"I may be obliged to give you a thrashing."
CHAPTER X.
JED REACHES DUNCAN
Percy Dixon's face flushed with resentment.
"Do you know who you are talking to?" he demanded.
"Yes," answered Jed coolly. "I am talking to a boy who thinks a great deal more of himself than any one else does."
"I would punish you, but I don't want to dirty my hands with you. I'll tell my father, and he'll see that old Fogson flogs you."
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