Miss Minerva and William Green Hill. Frances Boyd Calhoun

it's all right with God. S'posing He was one of these wants-his-own-way kind o' mans, He could make Hi'self the troublesomest person ever was, and little boys couldn't do nothing a tall. I sure think a heap of God. He ain't never give me the worst of it yet.”

      “I wonder what He looks like,” mused Billy.

      “I s'pec' He just looks like the three-headed giant in Jack the Giant-Killer,” explained Jimmy, “'cause He's got three heads and one body. His heads are name' Papa, Son, and Holy Ghost, and His body is just name' plain God. Miss Cecilia 'splained it all to me and she is 'bout the splendidest 'splainer they is. She's my Sunday-School teacher.”

      “She's goin' to be my Sunday-School teacher, too,” said Billy serenely.

      “Yours nothing; you all time want my Sunday-School teacher.”

      “Jimmee!” called a voice from the interior of the house in the next yard.

      “Somebody's a-callin' you,” said Billy.

      “That ain't nobody but mama,” explained Jimmy composedly.

      “Jimmee-ee!” called the voice.

      “Don't make no noise,” warned that little boy, “maybe she'll give up toreckly.”

      “You Jimmee!” his mother called again.

      Jimmy made no move to leave the swing.

      “I don' never have to go 'less she says 'James Lafayette Garner,' then I got to hustle,” he remarked.

      “Jimmy Garner!”

      “She's mighty near got me,” he said softly; “but maybe she'll get tired and won't call no more. She ain't plumb mad yet.

      “James Garner!”

      “It's coming now,” said Jimmy dolefully.

      The two little boys sat very still and quiet.

      “James Lafayette Garner!”

      The younger child sprang to his feet.

      “I got to get a move on now,” he said; “when she calls like that she means business. I betcher she's got a switch and a hair-brush and a slipper in her hand right this minute. I'll be back toreckly,” he promised.

      He was as good as his word, and in a very short time he was sitting again facing Billy in the swing.

      “She just wanted to know where her embroid'ry scissors was,” he explained. “It don't matter what's lost in that house I'm always the one that's got to be 'sponsible and all time got to go look for it.”

      “Did you find 'em?” asked Billy.

      “Yep; I went right straight where I left 'em yeste'day. I had 'em trying to cut a piece of wire. I stole off and went down to Sam Lamb's house this morning and tooken breakfast with him and his old woman, Sukey,” he boasted.

      “I knows Sam Lamb,” said Billy, “I rode up on the bus with him.”

      “He's my partner,” remarked Jimmy.

      “He's mine, too,” said Billy quickly.

      “No, he ain't neither; you all time talking 'bout you going to have Sam Lamb for a partner. You want everything I got. You want Miss Cecilia and you want Sam Lamb. Well, you just ain't a-going to have 'em. You got to get somebody else for your partner and sweetheart.”

      “Well, you jest wait an' see,” said Billy. “I got Major Minerva.”

      “Shucks, they ain't no Major name' that away,” and Jimmy changed the subject. “Sam Lamb's sow's got seven little pigs. He lemme see 'em suck,” said Sam Lamb's partner proudly. “He's got a cow, too; she's got the worrisomest horns ever was. I believe she's a steer anyway.”

      “Shucks,” said the country boy, contemptuously, “You do' know a steer when you see one; you can't milk no steer.”

CHAPTER V

       Table of Contents

      TURNING ON THE HOSE

      “Look! Ain't that a snake?” shrieked Billy, pointing to what looked to him like a big snake coiled in the yard.

      “Snake, nothing!” sneered his companion, “that's a hose. You all time got to call a hose a snake. Come on, let's sprinkle,” and Jimmy sprang out of the swing, jerked up the hose, and dragged it to the hydrant. “My mama don't never 'low me to sprinkle with her hose, but Miss Minerva she's so good I don' reckon she'll care,” he cried mendaciously.

      Billy followed, watched his companion screw the hose to the faucet, and turn the water on. There was a hissing, gurgling sound and a stream of water shot out, much to the rapture of the astonished Billy.

      “Won't Aunt Minerva care?” he asked, anxiously. “Is she a real 'ligious 'oman?”

      “She is the Christianest woman they is,” announced the other child. “Come on, we'll sprinkle the street—and I don't want nobody to get in our way neither.”

      “I wish Wilkes Booth Lincoln could see us,” said Miss Minerva's nephew.

      A big, fat negress, with a bundle of clothes tied in a red table cloth on her head, came waddling down the sidewalk.

      Billy looked at Jimmy and giggled, Jimmy looked at Billy and giggled; then, the latter took careful aim and a stream of water hit the old woman squarely in the face.

      “Who dat? What's yo' doin'?” she yelled, as she backed off. “'I's a-gwine to tell yo' pappy, Jimmy Garner,” as she recognized one of the culprits. “Pint dat ar ho'e 'way f'om me, 'fo' I make yo' ma spank yuh slabsided. I got to git home an' wash. Drap it, I tell yuh!”

      Two little girls rolling two doll buggies in which reposed two enormous rag-babies were seen approaching.

      “That's Lina Hamilton and Frances Black,” said Jimmy, “they're my chums.”

      Billy took a good look at them. “They's goin' to be my chums, too,” he said calmly.

      “Your chums, nothing!” angrily cried Jimmy, swelling up pompously. “You all time trying to claim my chums. I can't have nothing a tall 'thout you got to stick your mouth in. You 'bout the selfishest boy they is. You want everything I got, all time.”

      The little girls were now quite near and Jimmy hailed them gleefully, forgetful of his anger.

      “Come on, Lina, you and Frances,” he shrieked, “and we can have the mostest fun. Billy here's done come to live with Miss Minerva and she's done gone up town and don't care if we sprinkle, 'cause she's got so much 'ligion.”

      “But you know none of us are allowed to use a hose,” objected Lina.

      “But it's so much fun,” said Jimmy; “and Miss Minerva she's so Christian she ain't going to raise much of a rough-house, and if she do we can run when we see her coming.”

      “I can't run,” said Billy, “I ain't got nowhere to run to an'—”

      “If that ain't just like you, Billy,” interrupted Jimmy, “all time talking 'bout you ain't got nowhere to run to; you don't want nobody to have no fun. You 'bout the picayunest boy they is.”

      Little Ikey Rosenstein, better known as “GooseGrease,” dressed in a cast-off suit of his big brother's, with his father's hat set rakishly back on his head and over his ears, was coming proudly down the street some distance off.

      “Yonder comes Goose-Grease Rosenstein,” said Jimmy gleefully. “When he gets right close le's make him hop.”

      “All right,” agreed Billy, his good humor restored, “le's