amation of wonder.

"A cobbler," went on Jinnie impressively, "could steal loaves of bread
right under a great judge's nose and he couldn't do anything to him."

Jinnie had made a daring speech, such a splendid one; she wanted to
believe it herself.

"Tell me more," chirped Bobbie. "What about the death chair, Jinnie?"

She had nursed the hope that the boy would be satisfied with what she
had already told him, but she proceeded in triumphant tones:

"Oh, you mean the chair Peg was speaking about, huh? Sure I know all
about that.... There isn't anything I don't know about it.... I know
more'n all the judges and preachers put together."

A small, trustful smile appeared at the corners of Bobbie's mouth.

"I know you do, Jinnie," he agreed. "Tell it to me."

Jinnie pressed her lips on his hair.

"And if I tell you, kiddie, you'll not cry any more or worry Peggy?"

"I'll be awful good, and not cry once," promised the boy, settling
himself expectantly.

"Now, then, listen hard!"

Accordingly, after a dramatic pause, to give stress to her next
statement, she continued:

"There isn't a death chair in the whole world can kill a cobbler."

Bobbie braced himself against her and sat up. His blind eyes were
roving over her with an expression of disbelief. Jinnie knew he was
doubting her veracity, so she hurried on.

"Of course they got an electric chair that'll kill other kinds of
men," she explained volubly, "but if you'll believe me, Bobbie, no
cobbler could ever sit in it."

Bobbie dropped back again. There was a ring of truth in Jinnie's
words, and he began to believe her.

"And another thing, Bobbie, there's something in the Bible better'n
what I've told you. You believe the Bible, don't you?"

"Lafe's Bible?" asked Bobbie, scarcely audible.

"Sure! There isn't but one."

"Yes, Jinnie, I believe that," said the boy.

"Well," and Jinnie glanced up at the ceiling, "there's just about a
hundred pages in that book tells how once some men tried to put a
cobbler in one of those chairs, and the lightning jumped out and set
'em all on fire----"

Bobbie straightened up so quickly that Happy Pete fell to the floor.

"Yes, yes, Jinnie dear," he breathed. "Go on!"

Jinnie hesitated. She didn't want to fabricate further.

"It's just so awful I hate to tell you," she objected.

"I'd be happier if you would," whispered Bobbie.

"Then I will! The fire, jumping out, didn't hurt the cobbler one wee
bit, but it