piece of board on three legs; a shelf with some kitchen ware;
that was all the furniture. On the odd table there lay a
Bible, that had, I saw, been turned over many a time.

"Then you can read, uncle Darry," I said, pitching on the only
thing that pleased me.

"De good Lord, He give me dat happiness," the man answered
gravely.

"And you love Jesus, Darry," I said, feeling that we had
better come to an understanding as soon as possible. His
answer was an energetic —

"Bress de Lord! Do Miss Daisy love Him, den?"

I would have said yes; I did say yes, I believe; but I did not
know how or why, at this question there seemed a coming
together of gladness and pain which took away my breath. My
head dropped on Darry's little window-sill, and my tears
rushed forth, like the head of water behind a broken mill-dam.
Darry was startled and greatly concerned. He wanted to know if
I was not well — if I would send him for "su'thing" — I could
only shake my head and weep. I think Darry was the only
creature at Magnolia before whom I would have so broken down.
But somehow I felt safe with Darry. The tears cleared away
from my voice after a little; and I went on with my inquiries
again. It was a good chance.

"Uncle Darry, does no one else but you read the Bible?"