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Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a angel's. I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine on 'im! An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
"Ma'am?" asked the waif, drowsily, sitting up and regarding his surroundings with surprise. "I I Where am I at?" "At home, my child," answered Miss Lucy, with a gasp at her own daring. Towsley was now fully awake; and, what was better, he seemed to have lost his shyness during his nap. "Um'm. Home. That's where folks live that has 'em. This is yours, I s'pose.
Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a angel's! I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine on 'im! An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
His mouth opened like a trap, a spoonful went into it, the mouth closed, reopened, another spoonful no pause, no effort of swallowing, no lingering enjoyment of a delicious dish. She remarked: "You like ice-cream, Towsley, I perceive." "Um'm." "Can't you take time to answer properly?" "Ye-e-m, but it's melt ing," jerked out the boy between dips.
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