At the word "sleep" Johnny screamed out, "No, no!" and thrust his fat knuckles into his eyes, while he tried to sit up straight in Polly's lap.
"There, there," cried Polly soothingly, "now fly back, little bird, into your nest."
Johnny showed all the small white teeth he possessed, in a gleeful laugh, and burrowed deeper than before within the kind arm as he tried to play "Bo-peep" with her.
"You see," said Polly, to the little mother's worried look; "he'll soon be off in Nodland," she added softly.
"I've never had any one be so good to me," said Johnny's mother brokenly, "as you, Miss."
"Is Johnny your only little boy?" asked Polly, to stop the flow of gratitude.
"Yes, Miss; I've buried four children."
"Oh!" exclaimed Polly, quite hushed.
The little mother wiped away the tears from her eyes, and looked out of the window, steadily fixing her gaze on the distant landscape. And the train sped on.
"But the worst is, the father is gone." She turned again to Polly, then glanced down at her black dress. "Johnny and me have no one now."