“My, but your lap is hard,” he said.  “And you are a good deal fatter ’an Belle, too!” He slid from the chair and came back to the middle of the room.

“Oh but I wisht he wasn’t dead!” he cried.  The flood broke and Billy screamed in desperation.

Out of the night a soft, warm young figure flashed through the door and with a swoop caught him in her arms.  She dropped into a chair, nestled him closely, drooped her fragrant brown head over his little bullet-eyed red one, and rocked softly while she crooned over him—­

     “Billy, boy, where have you been? 
     Oh, I have been to seek a wife,
     She’s the joy of my life,
     But then she’s a young thing and she can’t leave her mammy!”

Billy clung to her frantically.  Elnora wiped his eyes, kissed his face, swayed and sang.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked at last.

“I don’t know,” said Billy.  “I tried.  I tried awful hard cos I thought he wanted me to, but it ist wouldn’t come.  Please tell her I tried.”  He appealed to Margaret.

“He did try to go to sleep,” admitted Margaret.

“Maybe he can’t sleep in his clothes,” suggested Elnora.  “Haven’t you an old dressing sacque?  I could roll the sleeves.”

Margaret got an old sacque, and Elnora put it on Billy.  Then she brought a basin of water and bathed his face and head.  She gathered him up and began to rock again.

“Have you got a pa?” asked Billy.

“No,” said Elnora.

“Is he dead like mine?”

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt him to die?”

“I don’t know.”

Billy was wide awake again.  “It didn’t hurt my pa,” he boasted; “he ist died while he was asleep.  He didn’t even know it was coming.”

“I am glad of that,” said Elnora, pressing the small head against her breast again.

Billy escaped her hand and sat up.  “I guess I won’t go to sleep,” he said.  “It might ‘come softly’ and get me.”

“It won’t get you, Billy,” said Elnora, rocking and singing between sentences.  “It doesn’t get little boys.  It just takes big people who are sick.”

“Was my pa sick?”

“Yes,” said Elnora.  “He had a dreadful sickness inside him that burned, and made him drink things.  That was why he would forget his little boys and girl.  If he had been well, he would have gotten you good things to eat, clean clothes, and had the most fun with you.”

Billy leaned against her and closed his eyes, and Elnora rocked hopefully.

“If I was dead would you cry?” he was up again.

“Yes, I would,” said Elnora, gripping him closer until Billy almost squealed with the embrace.

“Do you love me tight as that?” he questioned blissfully.

“Yes, bushels and bushels,” said Elnora.  “Better than any little boy in the whole world.”

Billy looked at Margaret.  “She don’t!” he said.  “She’d be glad if it would get me ‘softly,’ right now.  She don’t want me here ’t all.”