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“Do you know how ice cream is made, May Nell?” Jimmy asked to break the oppression. “I sorter hoped Moses’d take arter Uncle Josh, too,” she said, regretfully. “Awfully hard, Billy. Some of them had ‘grief swimming in their eyes.’”.
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“No worse ’n you, I reckon,” was the rueful response. Billy’s appearance justified Jimmy’s speech; for freckles were standing out large and ghastly from one or two very white spots on the younger boy’s battered face. “Can you get home alone?” Billy ducked his head into the cooling water, filled his mouth, and ran on. He could hear the painful breathing of the prisoners bearing the chest. It looked heavy, and he knew it was hard to carry, walking single file down the steep trail. How awfully they must feel, Billy thought. It was like the children in the fiery furnace. Did the men see that this was a tragic beginning of the just penalty for their sins? Cheats! Robbers! No, not robbers, boldly[221] risking life for booty, but cunning thieves, stealing from their fellow men, from widows, orphans, perhaps from his own mother; she had taken a counterfeit piece only a little while before. “What’ll I sing Betty?” Vigorously cleaning up the still bewildered victim, Mrs. Wopp hurled fresh orders..
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