Nellie was huddled against her mother, who sat, idle, with little Benny in her arms.
In the white moonlight, she and Benny looked as if they had been carved from stone.
Their sickness was the hand of God, but Benny just ain't had enough to eat.
Before the corn was in tassel, he had been laid beside Benny.
Benny came running in, all out of breath, and said you wished to see us at once.
"I—I dreamed it," said Benny, almost ready to cry for shame and disappointment.
She said Benny was the only one that was much help to him these days.
Said Benny appeared to know just when to try to soothe him and when to leave him alone.
Why, Benny's only half as old as he is, and just as sweet and lovely as—well, you've seen her.
And I knowed Benny seen him, too, because she was talking about it one day.