"
Miss Minerva, sober, proper, dignified, religious old maid unused
to children, listened in frozen amazement and paralyzed silence.
She decided to put the child to bed at once that she might
collect her thoughts, and lay some plans for the rearing of this
sadly neglected, little orphaned nephew.
"William," she said, "it is bedtime, and I know you must be
sleepy after your long ride on the cars. Would you like
something to eat before I put you to bed? I saved you some supper."
"Naw 'm, I ain't hongry; the Major man what I talk to on the
train tuck me in the dinin'-room an' gimme all I could hol'; I
jest eat an' eat tell they wan't a wrinkle in me," was the reply.
"He axed me 'bout you, too. Is he name' Major Minerva?"
She opened a door in considerable confusion, and they entered a
small, neat room adjoining.
"This is your own little room, William," said she, "you see it
opens into mine. Have you a nightshirt?"
"Naw 'm, I don' need no night-shirt. I jest sleeps in my unions
and sometimes in my overalls.
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