"For a little while. But I can't play with you because—because you don't look clean."
My heart sank like lead to my waist line, and I looked down ashamed at my dirty hands.
"I—I'd rather play with you," I faltered.
"Fur de Lawd's sake, honey, come in en let dat ar gutter limb alont," exclaimed the old negress, wagging her turbaned head.
"Well, I'll tell you what I'll do," said her charge, after a deep moment; "I'll let you play with me for a little while if you'll take the cat."
"But I ain't got any use for it," I stammered.
"Take it home for a pet. Grandmama won't let any more come on the place. She's very cruel is grandmama, isn't she, mammy?"
"Go way, chile, dar ain' nobody dat 'ould want all dem ar critters," rejoined the old negress.
"I do," said the little girl, and sighed softly.
"I'll take it home with me," I began desperately at last, "if you'll let me play with you the whole evening."