The rabbit’s left hind foot

A few minutes later, as Miss Minerva sat rocking and thinking, the door opened and a lean, graceful, little figure, clad in a skinny, grey union suit, came into the room.

“Ain’t I a-goin’ to say no prayers?” demanded a sweet, childish voice.  “Aunt Cindy hear me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln say us prayers ev’y night sence we’s born.”

“Why, of course you must say your prayers,” said his aunt, blushing at having to be reminded of her duty by this young heathen; “kneel down here by me.”

Billy looked at his aunt’s bony frame and thought of Aunt Cindy’s soft, fat, ample lap.  A wistful look crossed his childish face as he dropped down in front of her and laid his head against her knee, then the bright, beautiful little face took on an angelic expression as he closed his eyes and softly chanted:  “`Now I lays me down to sleep, I prays the Lord my soul to keep, If I should die befo’ I wake, I prays the Lord my soul to take.

“`Keep way f’om me hoodoo an’ witch, Lead my paf f’om the po’-house gate, I pines fey the golden harps an’ sich, Oh, Lord, I’ll set an’ pray an’ wait.’  “Oh, Lord, bless ev’ybody; bless me an’ Aunt Cindy, an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln, an’ Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy’s Peruny Pearline, an’ Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup’ter, an’ ev’ybody, an’ Sam Lamb, an’ Aunt Minerva, an’ alley Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy’s Peruny Pearline’s chillens, an’ give Aunt Minerva a billy goat or a little nanny if she’d ruther, an’ bless Major Minerva, an’ make me a good boy like Sanctified Sophy, fey Jesus’ sake.  Amen.”

“What is that you have tied around your neck, William?” she asked, as the little boy rose to his feet.

“That’s my rabbit foot; you won’t never have no ’sease ‘t all an’ nobody can’t never conjure you if you wears a rabbit foot.  This here one is the lef’ hin’ foot; it was ketched by a red-headed nigger with crosseyes in a graveyard at twelve er’clock on a Friday night, when they’s a full moon.  He give it to Aunt Cindy to tie ‘roun’ my nake when I’s a baby.  Ain’t you got no abbit foot?” he anxiously inquired.

“No,” she answered.  “I have never had one and I have never been conjured either.  Give it to me, William; I can not allow you to be so superstitious,” and she held out her hand.

“Please, Aunt Minerva, jest lemme wear it to-night,” he pleaded.  “Me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln’s been wearin’ us rabbit foots ever sence we’s born.”

“No,” she said firmly; “I’ll put a stop to such nonsense at once.  Give it to me, William.”

Billy looked at his aunt’s austere countenance and lovingly fingered his charm; he opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated; slowly he untied the string around his neck and laid his treasure on her lap; then without looking up, he ran into his own little room, closing the door behind him.

Soon afterward Miss Minerva, hearing a sound like a stifled sob coming from the adjoining room, opened the door softly and looked into a sad, little face with big, wide, open eyes shining with tears.