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, and tightly closed his eyes. But very soon
they opened. Then he sat up. He looked at Wesley pitifully, and then he
glanced at Margaret. "You don't like boys, do you?" he questioned.
"I like good boys," said Margaret.
Billy was at her knee instantly. "Well say, I'm a good boy!" he
announced joyously.
"I do not think boys who hurt helpless kittens and pull out turkeys'
tails are good boys."
"Yes, but I didn't hurt the kittens," explained Billy. "They got mad
'bout ist a little fun and scratched each other.
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