back I got, so't I can hol' my hade like otheh folks? Jes' go to sleep
like, an' wake up straight like Frale?"

The old doctor turned and looked down a moment on the child sitting
hunched at his side. His mouth worked as he meditated a reply.

"What would you do if you could c--arry your head straight like Frale?
If you had been like him, you would be running a 'still' pretty soon.
You never would have come to me to set you straight, and so you would
n--never have seen all the pictures and the great cities. You are going
to be a man before you know it, and--"

"And I'll do a heap o' things when I'm a man, too--but I wisht--I
wisht-- These here snails we b'en hunt'n', you reckon they're done
growed to ther shells so they can't get out? What did God make 'em
that-a-way fer?"

"It's all in the order of things. Everything has its place in the world
and its work to do. They don't want to get out. They like to carry their
bones on the outside of their bodies. They're made so. Yes, yes, all in
the order of things. They like it."

"You reckon you can tell me hu' come God 'lowed me to have this-er lump
on my back? Hit hain't in no ordeh o' things fer humans to be like I
be."

The sceptical old man looked down on the child quizzically, yet sadly.
His flexible mouth twitched to reply, but he was silent. Hoyle looked
back into the old doctor's eyes with grave, direct gaze, and turned
away. "You reckon why he done hit?"

"See here. Suppose--just suppose you were given your choice this minute
to change places with Frale--Lord knows where he is now, or what he's
doing--or be as you are and live your own life; which would you be?
Think it over; think it out."

"Ef I had 'a' been straight, brother David never would 'a' took me up to
you?"

"No--no--no. You would have been a--"

"You mean if a magic man should come by here an' just touch me so, an'
change me into Frale, would I 'low him to do hit?"

"That's what I mean."

"I don't guess Frale, he'd like to be done that-a-way." The loving
little chap nestled closer to the doctor's side. "I like you a heap,
Doctah Hoyle. Frale, he fit brothah David--an' nigh about killed him. I
reckon I rutheh be like I be, an' bide nigh Cass an' th' baby--an' have
the 'quar'um--an' see maw--an' go with you. You reckon I can go back
with you?"

"Go back? Of course--go back."

"Be I heap o' trouble to you? You reckon God 'lowed me to have this er
hump, so't I could get to go an' bide wh