since you wrote to Mother.”
“Kin’ I have a dime, grandma? I wana’ go up to the corner
and git an ice-cream cone.” It was the boy asking.
“Yes, I guess so, Russell. But listen to me. You are to come
right back.”
“Yes, I will, grandma, sure. You know me.”
He took the dime that his Grandmother had extracted from
a deep pocket in her dress and ran with it to the ice-cream
vendor.
Her darling boy. The light and color of her declining years.
She must be kind to him, more liberal with him, not restrain
him too much, as maybe, maybe, she had—— She looked
affectionately and yet a little vacantly after him as he ran.
“For his sake.”
The small company, minus Russell, entered the yellow,
unprepossessing door and disappeared.