"Billy, ma'am," corrected her nephew.

"William," firmly repeated Miss Minerva. "You may have been
called Billy on that plantation where you were allowed to run
wild with the negroes, but your name is William Green Hill and
I shall insist upon your being called by it."

She stooped to help him off with his coat, remarking as she did
so, "What a big overcoat; it is several sizes too large for you."

"Darned if 'tain't," agreed the child promptly.

"Who taught you such a naughty word?" she asked in a horrified
voice. "Don't you know it is wrong to curse?"

"You call that cussin'?" came in scornful tones from the little
boy. "You don't know cussin' when you see it; you jest oughter
hear ole Uncle Jimmy-Jawed Jup'ter, Aunt Cindy's husban'; he'll
show you somer the pretties' cussin' you ever did hear."

"Who is Aunt Cindy?"

"She's the colored 'oman what 'tends to me ever sence me an'
Wilkes Booth Lincoln's born, an' Uncle Jup'ter is her husban'
an' he sho' is a stingeree on cussin'. Is yo' husban' much of
a cusser?" he inquired.

A pale pink dyed Miss Minerva's thin, sallow face.