“Hit don't matter who perposed hit,” said Sarah Jane firmly; “meanness has been did, an' y' all gotter be structified on de place pervided by natur fer ter lem my chile erlone.”
CHAPTER X
LO! THE POOR INDIANS
Billy had just decided to run down to the livery stable to pay Sam Lamb a visit when the gate opened, and Lina and Frances, their beloved dolls in their arms, came skipping in.
Jimmy, who had had a difference with Billy and was in the sulks on his own side of the fence, immediately crawled over and joined the others in the swing. He was lonesome and the prospect of companionship was too alluring for him to nurse his anger longer.
“Aunt Minerva's gone to the Aid Society,” remarked the host. “Don't y' all wish it met ev'y day 'stid 'er jes' meetin' ev'y Monday?”
“Yes, I do,” agreed Frances, “you can have so much fun when our mamas go to the Aid. My mama's gone too, so she left me with Brother and he's writing a love letter to Ruth Shelton, so I slipped off.”
“Mother has gone to the Aid, too,” said Lina.
“My mama too,” chimed in Jimmy, “she goes to the Aid every Monday and to card parties nearly all the time. She telled Sarah Jane to 'tend to me and Sarah Jane's asleep. I hear her snoring. Ain't we glad there ain't no grown folks to meddle? Can't we have fun?”