An' it
rained forty days an' nights, an' then it stopped, an' Noah got
out of the ark, an' he and his little boys an' girls went wherever
they wanted to, and everything in the world was all theirs; there
wasn't anybody to tell 'em to go home, nor no Kindergarten schools
to go to, nor no bad boys to fight 'em, nor nothin'. Now tell us
'nother story."
I determined that I would not again attempt to repeat portions of
the Scripture narrative--my experience in that direction had not
been encouraging. I ventured upon a war story.
"Do you know what the war was?" I asked, by way of reconnoissance.
"Oh, yes," said Budge; "papa was there, an' he's got a sword;
don't you see it, hangin' up there?"
Yes, I saw it, and the difference between the terrible field where
last I saw Tom's sword in action, and this quiet room where it now
hung, forced me into a reverie from which I was aroused by Budge
remarking:--
"Ain't you goin' to tell us one?"
"Oh, yes, Budge. One day while the war was going on, there was a
whole lot of soldiers going along a road, and they were as hungry
as they could be; they hadn't had anything to eat that day."
"Why didn't they go into the houses, and the people they was
hungry? That's what _I_ do when I goes along roads."
"Because the people in that country didn't like them; the brothers
and papas and husbands of those people were soldiers, too; but
they didn't like the soldiers I told you about first, and they
wanted to kill them.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63