Neither spoke for a moment or two, and it was the widow who broke the silence.  As David had conjectured, she was interested at last, and sat leaning forward with her hands clasped in her lap.

“Well,” she exclaimed, “ain’t ye goin’ on?  What did he say to ye?”

“Cert’nly, cert’nly,” responded David, “I’ll tell ye near ’s I c’n remember, an’ I c’n remember putty near.  As I told ye, I felt a twitch at my hair, an’ he said, ‘What be you thinkin’ about, sonny?’ I looked up at him, an’ looked away quick.  ‘I dunno,’ I says, diggin’ my big toe into the dust; an’ then, I dunno how I got the spunk to, for I was shyer ’n a rat, ‘Guess I was thinkin’ ‘bout mendin’ that fence up in the ten-acre lot’s much’s anythin’,’ I says.

“‘Ain’t you goin’ to the cirkis?’ he says.

“‘I hain’t got no money to go to cirkises,’ I says, rubbin’ the dusty toes o’ one foot over t’ other, ‘nor nothin’ else,’ I says.

“‘Wa’al,’ he says, ‘why don’t you crawl under the canvas?’

“That kind o’ riled me, shy ’s I was.  ‘I don’t crawl under no canvases,’ I says.  ’If I can’t go in same ‘s other folks, I’ll stay out,’ I says, lookin’ square at him fer the fust time.  He wa’n’t exac’ly smilin’, but the’ was a look in his eyes that was the next thing to it.”

“Lordy me!” sighed Mrs. Cullom, as if to herself.  “How well I can remember that look; jest as if he was laughin’ at ye, an’ wa’n’t laughin’ at ye, an’ his arm around your neck!”

David nodded in reminiscent sympathy, and rubbed his bald poll with the back of his hand.

“Wa’al,” interjected the widow.

“Wa’al,” said David, resuming, “he says to me, ’Would you like to go to the cirkis?’ an’ with that it occurred to me that I did want to go to that cirkis more’n anythin’ I ever wanted to before—­nor since, it seems to me.  But I tell ye the truth, I was so far f’m expectin’ to go’t I really hadn’t knowed I wanted to.  I looked at him, an’ then down agin, an’ began tenderin’ up a stun-bruise on one heel agin the other instep, an’ all I says was, bein’ so dum’d shy, ‘I dunno,’ I says.  But I guess he seen in my face what my feelin’s was, fer he kind o’ laughed an’ pulled out half-a-dollar an’ says:  ‘D’ you think you could git a couple o’ tickits in that crowd?  If you kin, I think I’ll go myself, but I don’t want to git my boots all dust,’ he says.  I allowed I c’d try; an’ I guess them bare feet o’ mine tore up the dust some gettin’ over to the wagin.  Wa’al, I had another scare gettin’ the tickits, fer fear some one that knowed me ‘d see me with a half-a-dollar, an’ think I must ‘a’ stole the money.  But I got ’em an’ carried ’em back to him, an’ he took ‘em an’ put ’em in his vest pocket, an’ handed me a ten-cent piece, an’ says, ‘Mebbe you’ll want somethin’ in the way of refreshments fer yourself an’ mebbe the el’phant,’ he says, an’ walked off toward the tent; an’ I stood stun still, lookin’ after him.  He got off about a rod or so an’ stopped an’ looked back.  ‘Ain’t you comin’?’ he says.