“I ain’t going to be ’ticed into no meanness, ’cause I’m so good,” continued the reformed one, after a short silence during which he had seen Sarah Jane turn her back to him, “but I don’t b’lieve it’ll be no harm jus’ to come over and set in the swing with you; maybe I can ’fluence you to be good like me and keep you from ’ticing little boys into mischief.  I think I’ll just come over and set a while and help you to be good,” and he started to the fence.  Sarah Jane turned around in time to frustrate his plans.

“You git right back, Jimmy,” she yelled, “you git erway f’om dat-ar fence an’ quit confabbin’ wid datar Willyum.  Fixin’ to make some mo’ Injuns out o’ yo’selfs, ain’t yeh, or some yuther kin’ o’ skeercrows?”

Billy strolled to the other side of the big yard and climbed up and sat on the tall gate post.  A stranger, coming from the opposite direction, stopped and spoke to him.

“Does Mr. John Smith live here?” he asked.

“Naw, sir,” was the reply; “don’t no Mr. ’tall live here; jest me an’ Aunt Minerva, an’ she turns up her nose at anything that wears pants.”

“And where could I find your Aunt Minerva?” the stranger’s grin was ingratiating and agreeable.

“Why, this here’s Monday,” the little boy exclaimed.  “Of course she’s at the Aid; all the ‘omans roun’ here goes to the Aid on Monday.”

“Your aunt is an old friend of mine,” went on the man, “and I knew she was at the Aid.  I just wanted to find out if you’d tell the truth about her.  Some little boys tell stories, but I am glad to find out you are so truthful.  My name is Mr. Algernon Jones and I’m glad to know you.  Shake!  Put it there, partner,” and the fascinating stranger held out a grimy paw.

Billy smiled down from his perch at him and thought he had never met such a pleasant man.  If he was such an old friend of his aunt’s maybe she would not object to him because he wore pants, he thought.  Maybe she might be persuaded to take Mr. Jones for a husband.  Billy almost hoped that she would hurry home from the Aid, he wanted to see the two together so.

“Is you much of a cusser?” he asked solemnly, “’cause if you is you’ll hafter cut it out on these premises.”

Mr. Jones seemed much surprised and hurt at the question.

“An oath never passed these lips,” replied the truthful gentleman.

“Can you churn?”

“Churn—­churn?” with a reminiscent smile, “I can churn like a top.”

Jimmy was dying of curiosity but the gate was too far away for him to do more than catch a word now and then.  It was also out of Sarah Jane’s visual line, so she knew nothing of the stranger’s advent.

“And you’re here all by yourself?” insinuated Billy’s new friend.  “And the folks next door, where are they?”

“Mrs. Garner’s at the Aid an’ Mr. Garner’s gone to Memphis.  That is they little boy a-settin’ in they yard on they grass,” answered the child.