"Don't, Polly--you hurt!" the little fellow faltered, looking at her
with a feeling of sudden fear. "Why did you squeeze me so hard?"
"You shouldn't have done that, honey," the big brother frowned.
"I know," the sister pleaded, "but I couldn't help it."
"What are you crying about?" the boy questioned.
Again the girl's arm stole around his neck.
"What's the matter with her, Big Brother?" he asked with a brave attempt
at scorn.
The man slowly loosened the sister's arms.
"I'm just going home with you, ain't I?" the child went on, with a
quiver in his voice.
The older brother led him to a fallen log, sat down, and held his hands.
"No, Boy," he said quietly. "I'd as well tell you the truth now. I'm
going to send you to Kentucky to a wonderful school, taught by learned
men from the Old World--wise monks who know everything. You want to go
to a real school, don't you?"
"But my Mamma don't know--"
"That's just it, Boy. We can't tell her. She wouldn't let you go."
"Why?"
"Well, she's a good Baptist, and it's a long, long way to the St. Thomas
monastery."
"How far?"
"A thousand miles, through these big woods--"
The blue eyes dimmed.
"I want to see my Mamma before I go--" his voice broke.
The man shook his head.
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