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I'd be proud faw you to have a kitt'n, but, you know, cats don't suit yo' dear motheh's high strung natu'e. You couldn't be happy with anything that was a constant tawment to her, could you?" The head lying against the questioner's back nodded an eager yes! "Oh, you think you might, son, but I jes' know you couldn't. Now, what I've got faw you is ever so much nicer'n a kitt'n.
"Perhaps he'll think a gun isn't nice for such a little boy to have." "But it is nice. It's nicer'n anything. If I'm good and I want it I don't see why I can't have it. I think Santa's mean if he don't bring it." "Oh no, he isn't mean. Just think how good he is! He comes to every boy and girl " "No, he don't." "Why yes, he does. To every good little boy and girl."
As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to himself. "Well, maybe 'tis natural," he sighed. "Of course things you don't know about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter somebody 'way off.
"Done ye good, den; nebber seen ye I look so nice afore." "You'd look nicer'n I do if you were only dressed up," said Dab. "Just you put on these." "Golly!" exclaimed the black boy. But he seized the bundle Dab threw him, and he had it open in a twinkling. "Any t'ing in de pockets?" he asked. "Guess not," said Dab; "but there's lots of room." "Say dar was," exclaimed Dick.
Then, agin, one's a hundred times purtier and nicer than any o' them. I've no doubt that the girls out your way are much purtier and nicer'n the general run o' girls, but none o' them kin hold a candle to that girl up in Wisconsin, and I won't have you sayin' so." "If we're on time," said Si, by way of changing the subject, "we'll git to the station about sundown.
With a merry good-bye Amanda set off, the basket upon her arm, one hand grasping the red stem of the rhubarb parasol while the great green leaf flopped up and down upon her head in cool ministration. Down the sunny road she trudged, spasmodically singing bits of gay songs, then again talking to herself. "This here is a dandy parasol. Cooler'n a real one and lots nicer'n a bonnet or a hat.
"Done ye good, den. Nebber seen ye look so nice afore." "You'd look nicer'n I do, if you were only dressed up," said Dab. "Just you put on these." "Golly!" exclaimed the black boy. But he seized the bundle Dab threw him, and he had it open in a twinkling. "Anyt'ing in de pockets?" he asked. "Guess not," said Dab; "but there's lots of room." "Say dar was!" exclaimed Dick.
"I'll bet there ain't any room that's nicer'n this in the whole Waldorf 'Storia!" he vowed to the little Jewish lady when she came rocking down to marvel over the transformation, hands uplifted, head wagging. "Don't you think it's fine, Mrs. Kukor? and don't it smell 'zac'ly like Mrs. Reisenberger?" "Pos-i-tivvle!" agreed Mrs. Kukor.
But its sorrow-laden notes, that always found an echo in the winter of John McIntyre's lonely heart, spoke to him of something new and wonderful of that other land where there would be "no more death, neither sorrow nor crying." "It must be an awful pretty place," Tim ventured at last, rather wistfully. "Say!" he looked up eagerly "d'ye s'pose it 'ud be nicer'n Nova Scotia?"
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