Just then the band struck up, and the people were already pouring in the pasture, so we scrabbled things up and all started for the tent. Nick was walking with Lucy.
"Lucy," I heard him say, "you look near enough like you used to, for you to be you!"
She looked like a girl as she answered him. "You are you, Nick," she says, simple and neat and direct.
And me—I walked along, feeling grand. I kind of felt what all of us was feeling, and what everybody was going to feel down there in the big tent, when they knew. But far, far more, I sensed the thing that Nick Nordman, walking there with us, with about a hundred and fifty boys all waiting to sit down side of him at his circus—the thing that Nick Nordman had found out.
"God bless you, Calliope," says he, when he got a chance.
"Oh!" I says. "He has. He has! He's made folks so awful nice—when they just let it show through!"
BEING GOOD TO LETTY[4]
"The poor little thing," says I. "Well, mustn't we be good to her?"