Billy hesitated and looked earnestly at Wesley. "I
mean I wish they was here."

"You are about all I can manage, Billy," said Wesley.

Billy sat up. "Can't she manage anything?" he asked, waving toward
Margaret.

"Indeed, yes," said Wesley. "She has managed me for twenty years."

"My, but she made you nice!" said Billy. "I just love you. I wisht she'd
take Jimmy and Belle and make them nice as you."

"She isn't strong enough to do that, Billy. They will grow into a good
boy and girl where they are."

Billy slid from Wesley's arms and walked toward Margaret until he
reached the middle of the room. Then he stopped, and at last sat on the
floor. Finally he lay down and closed his eyes. "This feels more like my
bed; if only Jimmy and Belle was here to crowd up a little, so it wasn't
so alone like."

"Won't I do, Billy?" asked Wesley in a husky voice.

Billy moved restlessly. "Seems like--seems like toward night as if a
body got kind o' lonesome for a woman person--like her."

Billy indicated Margaret and then closed his eyes so tight his small
face wrinkled.

Soon he was up again. "Wisht I had Snap," he said. "Oh, I ist wisht I
had Snap!"

"I thought you laid a board on Snap and jumped on it," said Wesley.

"We did!" cried Billy--"oh, you ought to heard him squeal!" Billy
laughed loudly, then his face clouded.

"But I want Snap to lay beside me so bad now--that if he was here I'd
give him a piece of my chicken, 'for, I ate any. Do you like dogs?"

"Yes, I do," said Wesley.

Billy was up instantly. "Would you like Snap?"

"I am sure I would," said Wesley.

"Would she?" Billy indicated Margaret. And then he answered his own
question. "But of course, she wouldn't, cos she likes cats, and dogs
chases cats. Oh, dear, I thought for a minute maybe Snap could come
here." Billy lay down and closed his eyes resolutely.

Suddenly they flew open. "Does it hurt to be dead?" he demanded.

"Nothing hurts you after you are dead, Billy," said Wesley.

"Yes, but I mean does it hurt getting to be dead?"

"Sometimes it does. It did not hurt your father, Billy. It came softly
while he was asleep."

"It ist came softly?"

"Yes."

"I kind o' wisht he wasn't dead!" said Billy. "'Course I like to
stay with you, and the fried chicken, and the nice soft bed, and--and
everything, and I like to be clean, but he took us to the show, and he
got us gum, and he never hurt us when he wasn't drunk."

Billy drew a deep breath