find out, that’s all.”

“What’d you do when other kids beat the littler ones?” demanded the cobbler.

“Just shoved ’em down on the ground and set on ’em, damn ’em!” answered Jinnie.

Lafe raised his eyes slowly.

“I was wonderin’ if I dared give you a lesson, lass,” he began in a low voice.

“I wish you would,” replied Virginia, eagerly. “I’d love anything you’d tell me.”

“Well, I was wonderin’ if you knew it was wicked to swear?”

Like a shot came a pang through her breast. She had offended her friend.

“Wicked? Wicked?” she gasped. “You say it’s wicked to swear, cobbler?”

Lafe nodded. “Sure, awful wicked,” he affirmed.

Virginia took a long breath.

“I didn’t know it,” she murmured. “Father said it wasn’t polite, but that’s nothing. How is it wicked, cobbler?”

Lafe put two nails into position in the leather sole and drove them deep; then he laid down the hammer again.

“You remember my tellin’ you this morning of the man with angels, white angels, hoverin’ about the earth helpin’ folks?” 68

68

“Yes,” answered Virginia.

“Well, He said it was wicked.”

An awe-stricken glance fell upon the speaker.

“Did He tell you so, Lafe?”

“Yes,” said Lafe. “It ain’t a question of politeness at all, but just bein’ downright wicked. See, kid?”

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