“Ain't you?” asked Jimmy. “I 'spec' I been whipped more 'n a million times, my mama is so pertic'lar with me. She's 'bout the pertic'larest woman ever was; she don't 'low me to leave the yard 'thout I get a whipping. I believe I will come over to see you 'bout half a minute.”
Suiting the action to the word Jimmy climbed the fence, and the two little boys were soon comfortably settled facing each other in the big lawn-swing.
“Who lives over there?” asked Billy, pointing to the house across the street.
“That's Miss Cecilia's house. That's her coming out of the front gate now.”
The young lady smiled and waved her hand at them.
“Ain't she a peach?” asked Jimmy. “She's my sweetheart and she is 'bout the swellest sweetheart they is.”
“She's mine, too,” promptly replied Billy, who had fallen in love at first sight. “I's a-goin' to have her fer my sweetheart too.”
“Naw, she ain't yours, neither; she's mine,” angrily declared the other little boy, kicking his rival's legs. “You all time talking 'bout you going to have Miss Cecilia for your sweetheart. She's done already promised me.”
“I'll tell you what,” proposed Billy, “lemme have her an' you can have Aunt Minerva.”
“I wouldn't have Miss Minerva to save your life,” replied Jimmy disrespectfully, “her nake ain't no bigger 'n that,” making a circle of his thumb and forefinger. “Miss Cecilia, Miss Cecilia,” he shrieked tantalizingly, “is my sweetheart.”
“I'll betcher I have her fer a sweetheart soon as ever I see her,” said Billy.
“What's your name?” asked Jimmy presently.
“Aunt Minerva says it's William Green Hill, but 'tain't, it's jest plain Billy,” responded the little boy.
“Ain't God a nice, good old man,” remarked Billy, after they had swung in silence for a while, with an evident desire to make talk.
“That He is,” replied Jimmy, enthusiastically. “He's 'bout the forgivingest person ever was. I just couldn't get 'long at all 'thout Him. It don't make no differ'nce what you do or how many times you run off, all you got to do is just ask God to forgive you and tell him you're sorry and ain't going to do so no more, that night when you say your prayers, and it's all right with God. S'posing He was one of these wants-his-own-way kind o' mans, He could make Hi'self the troublesomest person ever was, and little boys couldn't do nothing a tall. I sure think a heap of God. He ain't never give me the worst of it yet.”