Mitch was dreadful pale, and so was Mr. Miller. But Mr. Miller says, "Come on, my boy, and may God help you."
So they got up, and Mr. Miller walked with Mitch inside the railin' and stood there, very sad, until Mitch took the witness chair, then he walked back and sat down inside the railing.
All the jury was craning their necks now and the court room was so still that the tickin' of the clock was scary.
It seemed as Mitch was only twelve, they had to ask him about whether he knew what he was doin'. So my pa began this a way, after Mitch was sworn.
"What is your name?"
"Mitchell Miller."
"How old are you?"
"Twelve years old."
"Do you understand the obligations of an oath?"
"I do, sir."