“How long you been here, Billy?” asked the other boy.

“Well, I don’t know perxactly, but I been to Sunday-School four times.  I got engaged to Miss Cecilia that very firs’ Sunday, but she didn’ know it tell I went over to her house the nex’ day an’ tol’ her ’bout it.  She say she think my hair is so pretty.”

“Pretty nothin’,” sneered his rival.  “She jus’ stuffin’ you fuller ’n a tick with hot air.  It just makes you look like a girl.  There’s a young lady come to spend a week with my mama not long ago and she put somepin’ on her head to make it right yeller.  She left the bottle to our house and I know where ‘t is.  Maybe if you’d put some o’ that on your head ’t would take the curl out.”

“‘Tain’t nothin’ a-goin’ to do it no good,” gloomily replied Billy. “’Twould jest make it yeller ’n what ’tis now.  Won’t I be a pretty sight when I puts on long pants with these here yaller curls stuck on topper my head?  I’d ’nuther sight ruther be bal’headed.”

“Bennie Dick’s got ’bout the kinkiest head they is.”

Bennie Dick was the two-year-old baby of Mrs. Garner’s cook, Sarah Jane.

“It sho’ is,” replied Billy.  Wouldn’t he look funny if he had yaller hair, ’cause his face is so black?”

“I know where the bottle is,” cried Jimmy, snatching eagerly at the suggestion.  “Let’s go get it and put some on Bennie Dick’s head and see if it’ll turn it yeller.”

“Aunt Minerva don’ want me to go over to yo’ house,” objected Billy.

“You all time talking ’bout Miss Minerva won’t let you go nowheres; she sure is imperdunt to you.  You ’bout the ’fraidest boy they is . . . .  Come on, Billy,” pleaded Jimmy.

The little boy hesitated.

“I don’t want to git Aunt Minerva’s dander der up any more ‘n I jest natchelly boun’ to,” he said, following Jimmy reluctantly to the fence; “but I’ll jes’ take a look at that bottle an’ see ef it looks anything ’t all like ’No-To-Kink’.”

Giggling mightily, they jumped the dividing fence and slipped with stealthy tread around the house to Sarah Jane’s cabin in the back-yard.

Bennie Dick was sitting on the floor before the open door, the entrance of which was, securely barricaded to keep him inside.  Sarah Jane was in the kitchen cooking supper; they could hear her happy voice raised in religious melody; Mrs. Garner had not yet returned from a card party; the coast was clear, and the time propitious.

Jimmy tiptoed to the house and soon returned with a big bottle of a powerful “blondine” in one hand and a stick of candy in the other.

“Bennie Dick,” he said, “here’s a nice stick of candy for you if you’ll let us wash your head.”