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"Why, what about David?" "Ho, yis. Now I do tink," said Dido. "Ah, massa, you say I took de debble-stick and made de new smell to fill him. Den dat I kill wid him massa, who lubbed lil missy, and dat I made spells in your house to steal de body. Heh, dat not so?" "Poor David!" sighed Jen, thinking of the young man cut off in the bloom of his youth..
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"Oh," cried Jen, recalling Dido's denial, "she knows of that, does she?" "The spell seems to know more about me than I do myself," said she, contemptuously. "I don't believe in your spells, Dido. I know from Maurice that they are nonsense!" "Now we're all ready," she said eagerly when they had made room for the generous figure of the monitor. "Fire away with your tale, young one, and don't spare the details. We're game for any length of story, so long as you can prove it." "Father isn't no good, and I don't care what he says," answered Billy with spirit. "He don't play no more, and he don't laugh no more, and he don't eat no more hardly, too. I'm not going to live in that house with him more'n two days longer. I want to come over and sleep in your bed and have you to play with me, Molly.".
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