one muddy paddie to me and promptly I lifted him up into my arms. From
the embrace in which he and the worm and I indulged my lace and dimity
came out much the worse.

"That was a lovely song you sang about 'Molly, darling', Billy," I said.
"Where did you hear it?"

"That's a good bug-song, Molly, and I bet I can git a lizard with it,
too, if I sing it right low." He began to squirm out of my arms toward
the table and the glass.

"Who taught it to you, sugar-sweet?" I persisted as I poured water in on
the squirming worm under his direction.

"Nobody taught it to me. Doc sings it to me when Tilly, nurse, nor you
ain't there to put me to bed. He don't know no good songs like _Roll,
Jordan, Roll_, or _Hot Times_ or _Twinkle_. I go to sleep quick 'cause
he makes me feel tired with his slow tune what's only good for bugs. Git
a hair-pin for me to poke him with, Molly, quick!"

I found the hair-pin and I don't know why my hand trembled as I handed
it to Billy. As soon as he got it he climbed out the window, glass, bug
and all, and I saw him and the red setter go down the garden walk
together in pursuit of the desired lizard, I suppose. I closed the
blinds and drew the curtains again and flung myself on my pillow.
Something warm and sweet seemed to be sweeping over me in great waves
and I felt young and close up to some sort of big world-good. It was
delicious and I don't know how long I would have stayed there just
feeling it if Judy hadn't brought in my letter.