“I don’t believe you,” he asserted; but she tossed her head and her eyes grew scornful.
“Who’s afeared of the dark? I love night.” Her eyes grew soft.
He watched her silently, till, waking from her daydream, she abruptly asked:
“Where you from?”
“Georgia.”
“Where’s that?”
He looked at her in surprise, but she seemed matter-of-fact.
“It’s away over yonder,” he answered.
“Behind where the sun comes up?”
“Oh, no!”
“Then it ain’t so far,” she declared. “I knows where the sun rises, and I knows where it sets.” She looked up at its gleaming splendor glinting through the leaves, and, noting its height, announced abruptly:
“I’se hungry.”
“So’m I,” answered the boy, fumbling at his bundle; and then, timidly: “Will you eat with me?”
“Yes,” she said, and watched him with eager eyes.
Untying the strips of cloth, he opened his box, and disclosed chicken and biscuits, ham and cornbread. She clapped her hands in glee.
“Is there any water near?” he asked.