He found the shoes and stockings which were reserved for Sunday
wear, and soon had them upon his little feet.
Miss Minerva rang the dinner-bell and he walked quietly into the
dining-room trying to make as little noise and to attract as
little attention from his aunt as possible; but she fastened her
eyes at once upon his feet.
"What are you doing with your shoes on, William?" she asked.
Billy glanced nonchalantly at her.
"Don't you think, Aunt Minerva," he made answer, "I's gittin' too
big to go 'thout any shoes? I's mos' ready to put on long pants,
an' how'd I look, I'd jest like to know, goin' roun' barefooted
an' got on long breeches. I don' believe I'll go barefooted no
mo'--I'll jest wear my shoes ev'y day."
"I just believe you won't. Go take them off at once and hurry
back to your dinner."
"Lemme jest wait tell I eats," he begged, hoping to postpone the
evil hour of exposure.
"No, go at once, and be sure and wash your hands."
Miss Minerva spied the paint the instant he made his second
entrance and immediately inquired, "How did you get that paint
on your feet?"
The little boy took his seat at the table and looked up at
her with his sweet, attractive, winning smile.
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