And as I had kissed the doll affectionate and accordin’ to her wishes, she put up her little hand to my face in that sweet caress she always gin me when she wuz real satisfied and happy with what I had done, or when I felt bad about anything.
And as I bent my head for that lovin’ and tender caress, oh, how joyful and clear that bird’s song did sound through the twilight; it rung out as if whatever it wuz waitin’ for had come nigh it, and its little lonesome heart wuz full of content and joy.
And after she left my side, Snow kissed her mamma and then went up to bid Victor good-night. She loved Victor, and he loved her dearly. And knowin’ it would be the last time he would ever have the chance agin most likely, he felt agitated and sorry, and took the dear little creeter up in his arms, dolly and all.
As he did so I thought I heard the sound of steps in the garden, but I glanced out past Victor and couldn’t hear anything more, only that plaintive bird song, low, and strange, and thrillin’.
And I kep’ on with my work. But agin we all thought we heard steps, and we listened for a minute, but everything wuz still. But sunthin’ drawed my eyes to look up at little Snow, and even as I looked a ball come crashin’ through the window and went right through that baby’s breast.
Victor sprung to his feet and sez:
“That wuz meant for me!”
And as he looked down on Snow he cried out:
“My God! has it killed the child?”
But he laid her down on the lounge right by him, and, bold as a lion, and as if to shield us all from further harm, he sprang out on the piazza and from there to the ground, and faced the gang of masked men we could see surroundin’ him.