“I try to,” he answered, looking at her gravely. “We ain’t over busy now. Ma, she’d be glad to have me come. She’d kep’ me in school if she’d been ’lowed. I come if I can, but I can’t never be sure.”
“What is the best time for you to get away?”
“I reckon when dinner’s done. Pa goes to sleep then sometimes.”
“We’ll play like this, Scip. I’ll always be here after dinner, if it is pleasant. Granny doesn’t need me then, so I’ll come to my house up here. And I’ll brush up, and get things tidy; and if my brother comes I’ll teach him his lessons. If he doesn’t, I’ll play by myself. Now I’ll write out your words.” And she made a fair copy and handed it to him.
He held it by the corner carefully, afraid of soiling the page.
Hazel gathered up her belongings and together they moved from the little enclosure.
“This is our house, isn’t it, Scip? And we won’t tell anyone about it. We might go to it a roundabout way. Oh, where is my stick to scare the pigs with?”
Scipio brought it to her.
“This ain’t much account,” he said. “I done bring you a better one to-morrow.”
“Will you? Thank you. Good-bye, Scip.”