His heart kep’ goin’ pity-pat,
But hern went pity Zekle.
An’ yit she gin her cheer a jerk
Ez though she wished him furder
An’ on her apples kep’ to work,
Parin’ away like murder.
“You want to see my Pa, I s’pose?”
“Wal—no—I come dasignin’——”
“To see my Ma? She’s sprinklin’ clo’es
Agin to-morrer’s i’nin’.”