The next instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing handsprings, standing on his head--doing all the heroic things he could conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if Becky Thatcher was noticing.
Un moment després, ja era fora, i engegant-se com un indi, udolant, rient, empaitant minyons, saltant per damunt el clos amb perill de la vida i el coll, fent capgirells amb la ma en terra, sostenint-se damunt el cap, acoblant totes les fetes heroiques que pogué imaginar, i mirant de cua d'ull, tota l'estona, per veure si Becky Thatcher n'havia esment.