n' allays seem ter wanter do jes like she ax 'im ter. Co'se,
ef he ain't wanter, w'y, I s'pose he'd 'a' did it jes same anyway, but
he jes natchelly is wanter. So, 'Yas'm,' he say, an' Mis' Simons
'mence tellin' 'im all 'bout it. She look up in de sky ez she's
talkin', too, at de sun, where's shinin' righ' down stret inter de
yaller lilies, an' she say: 'Co'se yer'll be back 'fo' dark, Jonah;
doan' be no longer'n yer's _'blige_ ter, 'cuz we _wants_ yer back 'fo'
dark.'

"An' Jonah smile at 'er an' say he'll go 'long right smart, an' Mis'
Simons smile back at 'im an' say, well, not ter kill 'isself 'bout it;
an' den Jonah he lef' us dere siden de lily-baid, an' de sun a-shinin'
down jes same.

"''Zekiel,' Mis' Simons 'mence after w'ile, an' 'er voice soun' kine
o' slow an' dreamin' like. ''Zekiel, does yer s'pose yer'll ever git
ter be 's good a man 's Jonah?'

"'Wha'm?' I say, kine o' s'prise w'en she ax me right out ez plain's
dat. 'Yas'm, I s'pose I is, Mis' Simons,' I say.

"She look at me r'al quick an' laf, same way I seen 'er do ser many
times befo'.

"'I doubt it,' she say, still a-smilin'; 'I doubt it, 'Zekiel.'

"Well, co'se I ain' know jes 'zackly w'at she mean talkin' dat-a-way,
but look 'mos' like she think I _ain't_ ser good's Jonah is, an',
anyway, I ain't r'ally like way she spoke, so, 'Yas'm,' I say, 'I
reckon I _kin_ be jes ez good's Jonah!' I say, an'--an' I didn' 'mence
ter cry, nudder, but--but I 'mence hoein' on de li'l' paff, an'
waterin' de yaller lilies, twell Mis' Simons pat me light 'n' sof' on
de haid--kine o' laffin', too.

"'W'y, yes, co'se, 'Zekiel,' she say, '_co'se_ yer's gwine be ez
good's Jonah! An' I jes reckon yer'll be 'blige tek 'is place now
twell he gits back, too! W'y--w'y, I couldn' git 'long 'thout yer
noways, could I, 'Zekiel?' She ben' down while she's talkin' an' pick
a yaller lily f'um de baid. 'Jes see it ketch de sun!' she say.
'Doan't it look like gole a-shinin'! Doan't yer reckon I better tek a
whul bunch ter Mis' Myers, 'Zekiel?' she say. 'She's sick, yer
know--po' Mis' Myers!'

"'Yas'm,' I answer 'er, an' 'mence pickin' de bunch fer 'er.

[Illustration: "'I COULDN' GIT 'LONG 'THOUT YER NOWAYS, COULD I?' SHE
SAY"]

"'An' you'll tek cyare o' de place w'ile I'se gone, won't yer,
'Zekiel? I kin trus' yer jes same's I kin Jonah, cyan't I? Ya'as,
co'se. I ain' gwine be gone ve'y long, nudder,' she say; 'jes long
'nough ter give Mis' Myers de flowers, an' talk