"'Maw,' he'd say, drawlin' a little in his cunnin' way, 'just don't you
worry. I'll do all those things, jest like pa said, an' then we'll go an'
live in a big house an' you won't have to work so hard any more--jest be
happy.'
"An' then he'd take my hand that was coarse an' rough from workin' in the
field and rub his soft little cheek against it an' look up at me, an'
just smile--"
There was a little sob from the spot where Amy was sitting cross-legged on
the floor, while the other girls were frankly and openly crying and not
even noticing it.
"He--he must have been a darling!" cried Betty, unsteadily.
"He was," answered the old lady simply. "It wasn't very long after that he
ran away, and I suppose"--again her eyes sought the parade ground--"if I
was to meet him now I maybe wouldn't know him. You see, I'd still be
lookin' for my little brown-eyed, yellow-haired Willie boy."
"But what made him run away?" asked Mollie, rubbing her eyes furiously
with her handkerchief. "I shouldn't have thought--"
"Neither would I," the strange little woman interrupted abruptly. "If he
hadn't had such a high spirit he never would. But--well, seem like I'm
gettin' ahead of my story.
"You see, some o' the neighbors' children was a pretty wild lot an' they
always had a grudge against my boy 'cause he wouldn't join them in all
their escapades.
"You see, Willie took a lot after his father. He used to just like to sit
and dream and read books you'd thought a little fellow like him couldn't
understand at all--he was just twelve when he ran away.
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