“Ocken Hawwy, you know what Iz’he goin’ do when I be’s big man? Iz’he goin’ to have hosses an’ tarridge, an’ Iz’he goin’ to wide over all ze chees an’ all ze houses an’ all ze world an’ ewyfing. An’ whole lots of little birdies is comin’ in my tarridge an’ sing songs to me, an’ you can come too if you want to, an’ we’ll have _ice_-cream an’ trawberries an’ see ’ittle fishes swimmin’ down in ze water, an’ we’ll get a g’eat big house that’s all p’itty on the outshide an’ all p’itty on the inshide, an’ it’ll all be ours an’ we’ll do just ewyfing we want to.” “Toddie, you’re an idealist.” “_Ain’t_ a ’dealisht.” “Toddie’s a goosey-gander,” remarked Budge, with great gravity. “Uncle Harry, do you think heaven’s as nice as that place over there?” “Yes, Budge, a great deal nicer.” “Then why don’t we die an’ go there? I don’t want to go on livin’ forever an’ ever. I don’t see why we don’t die right away; I think we’ve lived enough of days.” “The Lord wants us to live until we get good and strong and smart, and do a great deal of good before we die, old fellow—that’s why we don’t die right away.” “Well, I want to see dear little Phillie, an’ if the Lord won’t let him come down here, I think he might let me die an’ go to heaven. Little Phillie always laughed when I jumped for him. Uncle Harry, angels has wings, don’t they?” “Some people think they have, old boy.” “Well, I know they _don’t_, ’cos if Phillie had wings, I know he’d fly right down an’ see me. So they don’t.” “But maybe he has to go somewhere else, Budge, or maybe he comes and you can’t see him. We can’t see angels with _our_ eyes, you know.” “Then what made the Hebrew children in the fiery furnace see one? Their eyes was just like ours, wasn’t they? I don’t care; I want to see dear little Phillie _awful_ much. Uncle Harry, if I went to heaven, do you know what I’d do?” “What _would_ you do, Budge?” “Why, after I saw little Phillie, I’d go right up to the Lord an’ give him a great big hug.” “What for, Budge?” “Oh, ’cos he lets us have nice times, an’ gave me my mamma an’ papa, an’ Phillie— but he took him away again—an’ Toddie, but Toddie’s a dreadful bad boy sometimes, though.” “Very true, Budge,” said I, remembering my trunk and the object of my ride. “Uncle Harry, did you ever see the Lord?” “No, Budge; he has been very close to me a good many times, but I never saw him.” “Well, _I_ have; I see him every time I look up in the sky, and there ain’t nobody with me.” The driver crossed himself and whispered, “He’s foriver a-sayin’ that, an’ be the powers, I belave him. Sometimes ye’d think that the howly saints themselves was a-spakin’ whin that bye gits to goin’ on that way.”