After him tagged a small white-headed boy,
and after the boy, Willy Rose, with a sassafras-root and an old
shoe-knife in his hands.
The man, who was Mr. Hiram Fairbanks, Mrs. Rose's brother, had a
somewhat doubtful expression. When he stopped, the white-headed boy
stopped, keeping a little behind him in his shadow.
"What boy is that, Hiram?" asked Mrs. Rose. Miss Elvira peered around
the door. Mr. Fairbanks was tall and stiff-looking. He had a sunburned,
sober face. "His name is Dickey," he replied.
"One of those Dickeys?" Mrs. Rose said "Dickeys," as if it were a
synonym for "outcasts" or "rascals."
Mr. Fairbanks nodded. He glanced at the boy in his wake, then at Willy.
"Willy, s'pose you take this little boy 'round and show him your
rabbits," he said, in an embarrassed voice.
"Willy Rose!" cried his mother, "you haven't changed those muddy shoes!
Go right in this minute, 'round by the kitchen door, and take this boy
'round with you; he can sit down on the door-step and help you clean
your sassafras-root."
Willy disappeared lingeringly around the house, and the other boy, on
being further bidden by Mr. Fairbanks, followed him. "Willy," his mother
cried after him, "mind you sit down on the door-step and tie your shoes!
I ain't goin' to have that Dickey boy left alone; his folks are nothin'
but a pack of thieves," she remarked in a lower tone. "What are you
doing with him, Hiram?"
Hiram hesitated.
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