"Tause the Yankees wouldn't let him," said she, gravely, holding her doll up and looking at it pensively, her head on one side.
"And why, then, should he come next year?"
"Taus God's goin' to make him." She turned the mutilated baby around and examined it gravely, with her shining head still set on the other side.
"There's faith for you," said Mrs. Stafford.
Her husband asked the child:
"How do you know this?"
"Tause God told me," answered Evelyn, still busy with her inspection.
"He did? When?"
"'Tother night when I saw him."
"You saw him!"