Had it not been for his protecting presence in the house, Mammy was so affected by the boy's story that she would have barred every opening.

Then, cowering around one little flickering candle, they would have fed each other's superstitious fears until bedtime.

George knew this, and so he stayed to reassure them by his matter-of-fact explanations, and his cheerful common sense.

While he could not convince them that they had been needlessly alarmed, he drew their attention to other things, by stories of college life and experiences at the North, while Sheba bustled about, bringing out the best of her meagre store to do him honor.
Ivy, scrubbed until she shone, and in a stiffly starched apron, sat on his knee and sucked her thumb.

Bud squatted at his feet in silence, sticking his little red tongue in and out of the hole where the lost tooth had been.