Part 12 (1/2)
”Indeed no,” said Elnora, holding him closely.
”You wouldn't set a dog on a boy for just taking a few old apples when you fed 'em to pigs with a shovel every day, would you?”
”No, I would not,” said Elnora hotly.
”You'd give a boy all the apples he wanted, if he hadn't any breakfast, and was so hungry he was all twisty inside, wouldn't you?”
”Yes, I would,” said Elnora.
”If you had anything to eat you would give me something right now, wouldn't you?”
”Yes,” said Elnora. ”There's nothing but just stones in the package. But my dinner is in that case. I'll gladly divide.”
She opened the box. The famished child gave a little cry and reached both hands. Elnora caught them back.
”Did you have any supper?”
”No.”
”Any dinner yesterday?”
”An apple and some grapes I stole.”
”Whose boy are you?”
”Old Tom Billings's.”
”Why doesn't your father get you something to eat?”
”He does most days, but he's drunk now.”
”Hush, you must not!” said Elnora. ”He's your father!”
”He's spent all the money to get drunk, too,” said the boy, ”and Jimmy and Belle are both crying for breakfast. I'd a got out all right with an apple for myself, but I tried to get some for them and the dog got too close. Say, you can throw, can't you?”
”Yes,” admitted Elnora. She poured half the milk into the cup. ”Drink this,” she said, holding it to him.
The boy gulped the milk and swore joyously, gripping the cup with shaking fingers.
”Hus.h.!.+” cried Elnora. ”That's dreadful!”
”What's dreadful?”
”To say such awful words.”
”Huh! pa says worser 'an that every breath he draws.”
Elnora saw that the child was older than she had thought. He might have been forty judging by his hard, unchildish expression.
”Do you want to be like your father?”
”No, I want to be like you. Couldn't a angel be prettier 'an you. Can I have more milk?”