you can get to go off an’ leave maw here ‘lone?” But he continued to weep, and at last explained to them that the “Lord done crooked him up that-a-way so’t he could git to go an’ learn to be a painter an’ make a house full of pictures,” and that the doctor had said he might. Doctor Hoyle lifted him to his knees with many assurances that he would keep his word, but for a long time the child sobbed hysterically, his face pressed against the old man’s sleeve.

“What’s that you sayin’, child, ‘bouts the Lord twistin’ yer neck? Bettah lay sech as that to the devil, more’n likely.”

At the mention of that sinister individual, the babe wakened and stretched out his plump, bare arms, with little pink