"What makes you a n'orphan, then, Minnie, if you don't want to be one?" from Izzy.
"You're a n'orphan when your mother goes to Heaven an' leaves you an' forgets you," bitterly.
Heaven? God paces his goodly walks there, between his sweet and pleasant flowers. But would your mother leave you to go there? And going, forget you?
A window went up and Izzy's mamma appeared.
"Israel," she called, "run in to the porch and give grandpa his cane and help him start into the house. It's growing chill."
Minnie on the horse-block flung up her head and wiped away the tears. "That old man again!" she said.
Did Minnie have ways? Ways that Aunt Katie and Aunt Louise did not want their Emmy Lou to imitate? Was this one of her ways?
For Izzy's grandpa of whom Minnie spoke disparagingly was he of the white brows and the flowing beard. On days such as this they helped him to the porch where he sat bundled in a chair in the sun, his cane beside him.
Except when this cane was not, which was the trouble as Minnie saw it. For Izzy's grandpa was forever letting his cane slide to the floor, yet could not get up, or down, or about, without it.
Izzy ran in now. He was affectionate and dutiful. Aunt Cordelia said so. And having put the cane in his grandfather's hand, though not without several efforts at keeping it there, at which his grandfather, slowly—Oh, so slowly this morning!—and with trembling effort, drew him to him and kissed him, he came back.