“Oh, but you are the funniest boy,” she said.
“Thank you kindly; I do try my best. But come on, let’s finish up with the crowd before they get done with that boat.”
“That’s so. It’s so long since I’ve had anybody I could talk to that I can’t help wandering. Well, those two men with Pete are his oldest sons. They don’t seem to count much one way or the other. Three of those little children paddling in the water are Ben’s, and the other two belong to the oldest of Pete’s sons. His wife is dead, and Ben’s wife, that young woman, takes care of them. She’s real nice, and so is Ben. Ben is very kind to me. He treats me like a little princess. When I told him about wearing blue and white in honor of our Blessed Mother, he got me a lot of nice white dresses and three blue sashes, and his wife is just as kind. Her name is Dorcas. She helps me wash my things, and sews for me, and—you see that little tent over there?”
“It seems to me I do.”
“Well, that’s my tent. Ben got it for me. His wife sleeps with me every night; but she never comes in till I’ve said all my prayers.”
“All your prayers.”
“Yes, all of them.”
“I know only two,” observed Clarence regretfully, “and one of them, the Our Father, I’ve partly forgotten.”
“I’ll teach you all I know,” said Dora. “And,” she continued, “when I’ve finished my prayers, I sing a little hymn to the Blessed Virgin. Then she knows that I’m going to bed and she comes in. Isn’t that nice?”
“I don’t know,” returned Clarence, “I haven’t heard you sing yet.”