Mayton.
"When we says our prayers we prays for the nice lady what he
'spects, an' he likes us to do it," continued Budge.
"How do you know?" demanded Mrs. Mayton.
"Cos he always kisses us when we do it, an' that's what my papa
does when he likes what we pray."
Mrs. Mayton's mind became absorbed in earnest thought, but Budge
had not said all that was in his heart.
"An' when Toddie or me tumbles down an' hurts ourselves, 'tain't
no matter what Uncle Harry's doin' he runs right out an' picks us
up an' comforts us. He froed away a cigar the other day, he was in
such a hurry when a wasp stung me, an' Toddie picked the cigar up
and ate it, an' it made him AWFUL sick."
The last-named incident did not affect Mrs. Mayton deeply, perhaps
on the score of inapplicability to the question before her. Budge
went on:--
"An' wasn't he good to me today? Just cos I was forlorn, cos I
hadn't nobody to play with, an' wanted to die an' go to heaven, he
stopped shavin', so as to comfort me."
Mrs. Mayton had been thinking rapidly and seriously, and her heart
had relented somewhat toward the principal offender.
"Suppose," said she, "that I don't let my little girl go riding
with him any more?"
"Then," said Budge, "I know he'll be awful, awful unhappy, an'
I'll be awful sorry for him, cos nice folks oughtn't to be made
unhappy.
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