His letters were all there and his
photographs that were as handsome as the young god of love himself.
I could hardly see them through my tears, but I knew that they were
dim in places with being cried over when I had put them away years ago
after Aunt Adeline decided that I was to be married. I kissed the poor
little-girl cry-spots; and with that a perfect flood of tears rose to my
eyes--but they didn't fall, for there, right in front of me, stood a
more woe-stricken human being than I could possibly be, if I judged by
appearances.
"Molly, Molly," gulped Billy, "I am so sick I'm going to die here on the
floor," and he sank into my arms.
"Oh, Billy, what is the matter?" I gasped and gave him a little
terrified shake.
"Mamie Johnson did it--poked her finger down her throat and mine, too,"
he wailed against my breast. "We was full of things folks gived us to
eat and couldn't eat no more. She said if we did that with our fingers
it would all come up and we would have room for some more then. She did
it and I'm going to die dead--dead!"
"No, no, lover; you'll be all right in a second. Stay quiet here in your
Molly's lap and you will be well in just a few minutes," I said with a
smile I hid in his yellow mop as I kissed the drake-tail kiss-spot.
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