Having rolled up the last pair of stockings Ellen obeyed a call from her cousin. “Ellen, I wish you’d go out to the parsley bed and get me a few sprigs of parsley; I always like it in cream gravy.” Glad of an escape into the fresh air Ellen skipped off. She wished the parsley bed were on the other side of the garden, that she might, perhaps, see Mr. Todd again, but it was in the part which bordered upon the Hale property. From the Hale house came the sound of a phonograph which was clashing out jazz music. Ellen smiled as she thought of the contrast between the two neighbors. She had not met any of the Hale family, had merely seen that Mrs. Hale was a pretty young woman who wore startling costumes and seemed always to be on the go. In competition with the phonograph she heard the high, shrill voice of Lucilena, the maid of all work. Unmindful of the rival phonograph, Lucilena with great gusto announced that she was “climbing up Zion’s hill.” The conflicting noises were not to Ellen’s taste, and she decided to make short work of gathering the parsley. But, just as she was turning to go, a small voice said, “Have you got a kitty?” Ellen looked around to see where the voice came from, and discovered a pair of bright eyes peering through an opening in the hedge. “Why, no,” she replied, “I haven’t one, but my cousin, Miss Rindy Crump, has one.” “Oh, I know that one; it’s a big old cat named Wipers. I want a wittle kitty.” “I’m sorry I haven’t one to give you,” returned Ellen. “Do you wike kitties?” “Very much.” “If you had a wittle one would you give it to me?” “Why, I think so.” “I wike dogs, too. I’m a dog sometimes, a wittle white dog and my name’s Goo-Goo.” “That’s a funny name.” “I fink it’s a nice name. My name is Billy Dove-Hale; Jeremy calls me Dovey.” “You mean Mr. Jeremy Todd?” Billy, having now withdrawn his head, was standing on tiptoe, looking over the hedge at Ellen. He ignored her question, instead asking one himself. “What’s your name?” “Ellen North.” “Ewen Norf,” repeated Billy. “Is you ever an angel?” “Why, no.” “I is sometimes, and my name is Sara Phim. I has wings and I can fly. Some day I is going up to heaven and get a wittle sister. I’d wather have one zan a dog. Daddy’s going to get me a dog some day. If you can find a wittle kitty will you bwing it to me?” “I certainly will.” “I wike you. I wish you wived here.” “But I do live here, with Miss Rindy Crump.” Just here came a summons from the house. Lucilena was calling: “You Billy, you Billy! Whar is yuh? I ’clar yuh is de mos’ git-out-o’-de-wayes chile uver I did see. Come in an’ git yo’ suppah fo’ I bus’es yo’ haid open.” Without a word of farewell Billy galloped off, or rather took flight as he flapped his arms, wing fashion, in his own estimation. “I’se comin’. I’se flyin’ fas’ like an angel.”