reckon I'm going to be a mish'nary or a pol'tician, one or
t' other when I'm a grownup man 'cause I'm so good; I ain't got but five
whippings this week. I been good ever since I let you 'suade me to play
Injun. I'm the goodest little boy in this town, I 'spec'. Sometimes
I get scared 'bout being so good 'cause I hear a woman say if you too
good, you going to die or you ain't got no sense, one. You come on over
here; you ain't trying to be good like what I'm trying, and Miss Minerva
don't never do nothing a tall to you 'cepting put you to bed."

"I'd ruther to git whipped fifty hunderd times 'n to hafter go to bed
in the daytime with Aunt Minerva lookin' at you. An' her specs can see
right th'oo you plumb to the bone. Naw, I can't come over there 'cause
she made me promise not to. I ain't never go back on my word yit."

"I hope mama won't never ask me to promise her nothing a tall, 'cause
I'm mighty curious 'bout forgetting. I 'spec' I'm the most forgettingest
little boy they is. But I'm so glad I'm so good. I ain't never going to
be bad no more; so you might just as well quit begging me to come over
and swing, you need n't ask me no more,--'tain't no use a tall."

"I ain't a-begging you," cried Billy contemptuously, "you can set on yo'
mammy's grass where you is, an' be good from now tell Jedgement Day an'
'twon't make no change in my business."

"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