The small, lean body stiffened. “Then, whar at’ll we all work, suh?”
“You won’t work anywhere! You’re never going to work again, Glory,—nor Beany! And the rest of the kids—the big ones—will only work half a day, and go to school and play the rest of the time, and there’ll be a gymnasium and a swimming tank and a lunch room and—” He broke off, considering her with concern. Was she fainting? He’d better get her upstairs and into bed! He rose with her, and she opened her eyes again.
“Please go on an’ finish hit, such—that sweet-pretty fairy tale you was a-tellin’ me.”
“That was no fairy tale, Glory! That’s coming true—cross my heart! Now, bed for yours, but first, don’t you want to make a wish on the Wishing Carpet? It will come true.”
“Cross yo’ heart again, suh, sho’ an’ sartin?”
“Cross my heart!” He stood her upon the Persian rug and knelt beside her, steadying her. (Gad, but this was a very sick child!—Weak as a cat! He was going to get a doctor here immediately!) “Now, then, shut your eyes and wish hard!”
“There is ... a ... hap ... pee ... land——”
Old Pap Tolliver’s accordion made a plaintive prophecy, but it was drowned in the sudden and raucous blast of the mill whistle.
“Extry help!” The wise little monkey face contracted painfully.
“Wish, Glory!” (She was fainting, by gad!)