There, now, run to Fanny.

Miss Polly lives so far away she can't stay very long." He went obediently, for he was usually amenable to his mother's commands, stopping only once at the door to ask if "Pang lived as far away as God and could she manage to get a message to Him about the poor boy needing shoes ?" "I declare I can't make out that child to save my soul," remarked Miss Polly as he shut the door carefully and ran down the hall to the nursery.

"The more I study him the curiouser he seems to me.

If he wan't so quick about some things you might think his wits were sort of addled--but they ain't, are they?
Now, whatever do you reckon put the notion in his head to call me 'Pang ?" All the smiling, circular wrinkles in her face were working with amusement while her little black eyes twinkled like jet beads above the ruddy creases in her cheeks.
"I can't imagine, for he must have made up the word for himself.

But don't you think he is like father, Miss Polly?
I love to hear you say so." "That child?
Why, he's the very spit of yo' pa, Gabriella, and there ain't any two ideas about it.