“Yes, dear.”
“There’s a many people dead there, ain’t there?”
“A great many.”
“Are any of your peoples dead?”
“Yes, my dear,” said I.
“Is?” (and the little creature put her hand in my lap, as if that brought us nearer to each other), “Is? we just put little brother in Greenwood.”
“What ailed him?” said I.
“Sick,” answered the little girl, playing with my bracelet.
“Mother is dead too, mother is in Greenwood, we put her there two weeks ago.”
“What ailed your mamma?”