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 whar you were at, like I done?”

A suspicious moisture gathered in the doctor’s eyes, and he sprang up and went to examine earnestly a thorny shrub some paces away, while the child continued to pipe his questions, for the most part unanswerable. “You reckon God just gin my neck er twist so’t brothah David would take me to Canada to you, an’