Elnora wiped his eyes, kissed his face,
swayed and sang.
"Why aren't you asleep?" she asked at last.
"I don't know," said Billy. "I tried. I tried awful hard cos I thought
he wanted me to, but it ist wouldn't come. Please tell her I tried." He
appealed to Margaret.
"He did try to go to sleep," admitted Margaret.
"Maybe he can't sleep in his clothes," suggested Elnora. "Haven't you an
old dressing sacque? I could roll the sleeves."
Margaret got an old sacque, and Elnora put it on Billy. Then she brought
a basin of water and bathed his face and head. She gathered him up and
began to rock again.
"Have you got a pa?" asked Billy.
"No," said Elnora.
"Is he dead like mine?"
"Yes."
"Did it hurt him to die?"
"I don't know."
Billy was wide awake again. "It didn't hurt my pa," he boasted; "he ist
died while he was asleep. He didn't even know it was coming."
"I am glad of that," said Elnora, pressing the small head against her
breast again.
Billy escaped her hand and sat up. "I guess I won't go to sleep," he
said. "It might 'come softly' and get me."
"It won't get you, Billy," said Elnora, rocking and singing between
sentences. "It doesn't get little boys. It just takes big people who are
sick."
"Was my pa sick?"
"Yes," said Elnora. "He had a dreadful sickness inside him that burned,
and made him drink things. That was why he would forget his little boys
and girl. If he had been well, he would have gotten you good things to
eat, clean clothes, and had the most fun with you.
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