“Won’t I do, Billy?” asked Wesley in a husky voice.

Billy moved restlessly.  “Seems like—­seems like toward night as if a body got kind o’ lonesome for a woman person—­like her.”

Billy indicated Margaret and then closed his eyes so tight his small face wrinkled.

Soon he was up again.  “Wisht I had Snap,” he said.  “Oh, I ist wisht I had Snap!”

“I thought you laid a board on Snap and jumped on it,” said Wesley.

“We did!” cried Billy—­“oh, you ought to heard him squeal!” Billy laughed loudly, then his face clouded.

“But I want Snap to lay beside me so bad now—­that if he was here I’d give him a piece of my chicken, ’for, I ate any.  Do you like dogs?”

“Yes, I do,” said Wesley.

Billy was up instantly.  “Would you like Snap?”

“I am sure I would,” said Wesley.

“Would she?” Billy indicated Margaret.  And then he answered his own question.  “But of course, she wouldn’t, cos she likes cats, and dogs chases cats.  Oh, dear, I thought for a minute maybe Snap could come here.”  Billy lay down and closed his eyes resolutely.

Suddenly they flew open.  “Does it hurt to be dead?” he demanded.

“Nothing hurts you after you are dead, Billy,” said Wesley.

“Yes, but I mean does it hurt getting to be dead?”

“Sometimes it does.  It did not hurt your father, Billy.  It came softly while he was asleep.”

“It ist came softly?”

“Yes.”

“I kind o’ wisht he wasn’t dead!” said Billy. “’Course I like to stay with you, and the fried chicken, and the nice soft bed, and—­and everything, and I like to be clean, but he took us to the show, and he got us gum, and he never hurt us when he wasn’t drunk.”

Billy drew a deep breath, and tightly closed his eyes.  But very soon they opened.  Then he sat up.  He looked at Wesley pitifully, and then he glanced at Margaret.  “You don’t like boys, do you?” he questioned.

“I like good boys,” said Margaret.

Billy was at her knee instantly.  “Well say, I’m a good boy!” he announced joyously.

“I do not think boys who hurt helpless kittens and pull out turkeys’ tails are good boys.”

“Yes, but I didn’t hurt the kittens,” explained Billy.  “They got mad ’bout ist a little fun and scratched each other.  I didn’t s’pose they’d act like that.  And I didn’t pull the turkey’s tail.  I ist held on to the first thing I grabbed, and the turkey pulled.  Honest, it was the turkey pulled.”  He turned to Wesley.  “You tell her!  Didn’t the turkey pull?  I didn’t know its tail was loose, did I?”

“I don’t think you did, Billy,” said Wesley.

Billy stared into Margaret’s cold face.  “Sometimes at night, Belle sits on the floor, and I lay my head in her lap.  I could pull up a chair and lay my head in your lap.  Like this, I mean.”  Billy pulled up a chair, climbed on it and laid his head on Margaret’s lap.  Then he shut his eyes again.  Margaret could have looked little more repulsed if he had been a snake.  Billy was soon up.