“I pray every day and every night, but she don’t get well. Why does He leave her like that, when she’s so good!” and then his voice choked into sobs, and he buried his face in the leaves.
He was suddenly roused by the voice of Nelse who stood looking down on his forlorn figure with tenderness.
“What you doin’ out in dese woods, honey, by yo’ se’f?”
“Nothin’, Nelse.”
“I knows. You’se er crying ’bout yo Ma.”
The boy nodded without looking up.
“Doan do dat way, honey. You’se too little ter cry lak dat. Yer Ma’s gittin’ better ev’ry day, de doctor done tole me so.”
“Do you think so, Nelse?” There was an eagerness and yearning in the child’s voice, that would have moved the heart of a stone.
“Cose I does. She be strong en well in little while when cole wedder comes. Fros ’ll soon be here. I see whar er ole rabbit been er eatin’ on my turnip tops. Dat’s er sho sign. I gwine make you er rabbit box ter-morrer ter ketch dat rabbit.”
“Will you, Nelse?”