An' he bought--"
Just here Budge stopped, for Mrs. Mayton put her handkerchief to
her eyes. Two or three moments later she felt a light touch on her
knee, and, wiping her eyes, saw Budge looking sympathetically into
her face.
"I'm awful sorry you feel bad," said he.
"Are you 'fraid to have your little girl ridin' so long?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Mrs. Mayton, with great decision.
"Well, you needn't be," said Budge, "for Uncle Harry's awful
careful an' smart."
"He ought to be ashamed of himself!" exclaimed the lady.
"I guess he is, then," said Budge, "cos he's ev'rything he ought
to be. He's awful careful. T'other day, when the goat ran away,
an' Toddie an' me got in the carriage with them, he held on to her
tight, so she couldn't fall out."
Mrs. Mayton brought her foot down with a violent stamp.
"I know you'd 'spect HIM, if you knew how nice he was," continued
Budge. "He sings awful funny songs, an' tells splendid stories."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the angry mother.
"They ain't no nonsense at all," said Budge. "I don't think it's
nice for to say that, when his stories are always about Joseph,
an' Abraham, an' Moses, an' when Jesus was a little boy, an' the
Hebrew children, an' lots of people that the Lord loved. An' he's
awful 'fectionate, too."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Mrs.
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