"Dar's a balful picture 'bout her. I seed it."
"I LIKE to look at PICTURES," Polly answered tentatively. Mandy
crossed the room to fetch the large Bible with its steel
engravings.
"We got a girl named Ruth in our 'Leap of Death' stunt. Some of
the folks is kinder down on 'er, but I ain't."
She might have told Douglas more of her forlorn, little friend,
but just then Mandy came to the bed, hugging a large,
old-fashioned Bible, and Douglas helped to place the ponderous
book before the invalid.
"See, honey, dar dey is," the old woman said, pointing to the
picture of Ruth and Naomi.
"Them's crackerjacks, ain't they?" Polly gasped, and her eyes
shone with wonder. "Which one 's Ruth?"
"Dis one," said Mandy, pointing with her thumb.
"Why, they're dressed just like our chariot drivers. What does
it say about 'em?"
"You can read it for yourself," Douglas answered gently. There
was something pathetic in the eagerness of the starved little
mind.
"Well, I ain't much on readin'--OUT LOUD," she faltered, growing
suddenly conscious of her deficiencies. "Read it for me, will
you?"
"Certainly," and he drew his chair nearer to the bed. One strong
hand supported the other half of the Bible, and his head was very
near to hers as his deep, full voice pronounced the solemn words
in which Ruth pleaded so many years before.
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