So granny let him have his way, concluding that he would mend in that matter as he got older.
"But," the old woman would say, "he'll never be like little Nelly. Bless her! I's afeard, sometimes, she's too good an' knowin' to live."
[CHAPTER VIII.]
In which Joe Wrag has a Vision.
They are going, only going,
Jesus called them long ago
All the wintry time they're passing
Softly as the falling snow.
When the violets in the spring-time
Catch the azure of the sky,
They are carried out to slumber
Sweetly where the violets lie.
s winter slowly wore away, little Nelly's health began to fail. She seemed weary and languid, and poor little Benny was at his wits' end to know what to get her to eat. After spending more than he could really afford in something that he thought would tempt her appetite, he was grieved beyond measure when she would turn away her head and say,
"I's very sorry for yer, Benny, but I canna eat it; I would if I could."