questions and David’s replies, now serious, now teasing and bantering.

“You are so full of interrogation points you have no room for your dinner. Here — drink this milk — slowly; don’t gulp it.”

“I know what they be. They go this-a-way.” The boy set down his glass to illustrate with his slender little hand the form of the question mark. Then he laughed out gayly. “You know hu’ come I got filled up with them things? I done swallered that thar catechism Cass b’en teachin’ me Sundays.”

“No, I’m thinking you just are one yourself.”

“‘Cause I’m crooked like this-a-way?” He twisted about and looked up at David gravely.