the grass? Tell me and I'll believe you. Say it was a little piece
o' glass and I'll put you down and go get you some corn, and we'll
never speak of it again. But don't look at me like that--don't look
at me like that! You look--GUILTY!"

She rocked him in her arms. In her soul she knew what it was that had
glittered. But in Thomas Jefferson's soul--oh, they could not blame
Thomas Jefferson!

"You haven't got any soul, poor dear; poor dear, you haven't got any
soul, and you can't be guilty without a soul. They couldn't--
hang--you." Her voice sank to the merest whisper. She tightened
her clasp on the great, soft body and smoothed the soft feathers
with a tender, tremulous little hand.

"The Lord didn't put anything in you but a stomach and a--a gizzard.
He left your soul out and you're not to blame for that. I don't blame
you, Thomas Jefferson, and of course the Lord don't. But Mrs. Avery's
boarder--oh, oh, dear, I'm afraid Mrs. Avery's boarder will! You
mustn't tell--I mean I mustn't. Nobody must know what it was that
glittered in the grass. Do you want to be--searched?

"You know 'xactly where she sat over to this house yesterday morning,
when she went by--and how she said you were too sweet for anything--
and how she flew her hand round with--with IT on it. You know as well
as I do. And it was loose, the di'mond-stone was loose. We didn't
either of us know that. We're not to blame if things are loose, and
you're not to blame for not having any soul. But oh, oh, dear, how
dreadfully it makes us both feel! You'd better give up crowing, Thomas
Jefferson; I feel just as if you'd let it out if you crew."