The Prodigal Judge by Vaughan Kester
page 23 of 508 (04%)
page 23 of 508 (04%)
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"I hear you-all have been entertaining visitors while Uncle Bob
was away," observed Yancy, and remembering what Crenshaw had told him, he rested his big hand on the boy's head with a special tenderness. "There's going to be a school in the cabin in the old field!" said the boy. "May I go?--Oh, Uncle Bob, will you please take me?" "When's this here school going to begin, anyhow?" "To-morrow at four o'clock, she said, Uncle Bob." "She's a quick lady, ain't she? Well, I expected you'd be hopping around on one leg when you named it to me. You wait until Sunday and see what I do fo' my nevvy," said Yancy. He was as good as his implied promise, but the day began discouragingly with an extra and, as it seemed to Hannibal, an unnecessary amount of soap and water. "You owe it to yo'self to show a clean skin in the house of worship. Just suppose one of them nice ladies was to cast her eye back of yo' ears! She'd surely be put out to name it offhand whether you was black or white. I reckon I'll have to barber you some, too, with the shears." "What's school like, Uncle Bob?" asked Hannibal, twisting and squirming under the big resolute hands of the man. |
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