“I am going up-town, William,” she said, “I want to buy you some things that you may go with me to church Sunday.  Have you ever been to Sunday-School?”

“Naw ’m; but I been to pertracted meetin’,” came the ready response, “I see Sanctified Sophy shout tell she tore ev’y rag offer her back ‘ceptin’ a shimmy.  She’s one ‘oman what sho’ is got ’ligion; she ain’t never backslid ‘t all, an’ she ain’t never fell f’om grace but one time—­”

“Stay right in the yard till I come back.  Sit in the swing and don’t go outside the front yard.  I shan’t be gone long,” said Miss Minerva.

His aunt had hardly left the gate before Billy caught sight of a round, fat little face peering at him through the palings which separated Miss Minerva’s yard from that of her next-door neighbor.

“Hello!” shouted Billy.  “Is you the bad little boy what can’t play with me?”

“What you doing in Miss Minerva’s yard?” came the answering interrogation across the fence.

“I’s come to live with her,” replied Billy.  “My mama an’ papa is dead.  What’s yo’ name?”

“I’m Jimmy Garner.  How old are you?  I’m most six, I am.”

“Shucks, I’s already six, a-going on seven.  Come on, le’s swing.”

“Can’t,” said the new acquaintance, “I’ve runned off once to-day, and got licked for it.”

“I ain’t never got no whippin’ sence me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln ’s born,” boasted Billy.

“Ain’t you?” asked Jimmy.  “I ‘spec’ I been whipped more ’n a million times, my mama is so pertic’lar with me.  She’s ’bout the pertic’larest woman ever was; she don’t ’low me to leave the yard ’thout I get a whipping.  I believe I will come over to see you ’bout half a minute.”

Suiting the action to the word Jimmy climbed the fence, and the two little boys were soon comfortably settled facing each other in the big lawn-swing.

“Who lives over there?” asked Billy, pointing to the house across the street.

“That’s Miss Cecilia’s house.  That’s her coming out of the front gate now.”

The young lady smiled and waved her hand at them.

“Ain’t she a peach?” asked Jimmy.  “She’s my sweetheart and she is ’bout the swellest sweetheart they is.”

“She’s mine, too,” promptly replied Billy, who had fallen in love at first sight.  “I’s a-goin’ to have her fer my sweetheart too.”

“Naw, she ain’t yours, neither; she’s mine,” angrily declared the other little boy, kicking his rival’s legs.  “You all time talking ’bout you going to have Miss Cecilia for your sweetheart.  She’s done already promised me.”

“I’ll tell you what,” proposed Billy, “lemme have her an’ you can have Aunt Minerva.”

“I wouldn’t have Miss Minerva to save your life,” replied Jimmy disrespectfully, “her nake ain’t no bigger ’n that,” making a circle of his thumb and forefinger.  “Miss Cecilia, Miss Cecilia,” he shrieked tantalizingly, “is my sweetheart.”