"William, who started that sprinkling this morning?" she
questioned, sharply.
Billy flushed guiltily and lowered his eyelids; but only for an
instant. Quickly recovering his composure he returned her gaze
steadily and ignored her question.
"I see yo' beau too, Aunt Minerva," he remarked tranquilly.
It was Miss Minerva this time who lost her composure, for her
thin, sallow face became perfectly crimson.
"My beau?" she asked confusedly. "Who put that nonsense into
your head?"
"Jimmy show him to me," he replied jauntily, once more master of
the situation and in full realization of the fact. "Why don't
you marry him, Aunt Minerva, so's he could live right here with us?
An' I could learn him how to churn. I s'pec' he 'd make a
beautiful churner. He sho' is a pretty little fat man," he
continued flatteringly. "An' dress? That beau was jest dressed
plumb up to the top notch. I sho' would marry him if I's you an'
not turn up my nose at him 'cause he wears pants, an' you can
learn him how to talk properer'n what he do an' I betcher he'd
jest nachelly take to a broom, an' I s'pec' he ain't got nobody
'tall to show him how to sew.
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