Yet the
eyes he turned upon Beth, as she faced him had a wistful and pleading
look that affected her strangely.
"Afternoon, miss," he said, in a hesitating voice. "I--I'm Rogers, miss;
ol' Will Rogers. I--I s'pose you hain't heerd o' me before."
"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Rogers," replied the girl in her pleasant
voice. "Have you come to see me about the election?"
"It's--it's sump'n 'bout the 'lection, an' then agin it ain't. But I run
the chanct o' seein' ye, because we're in desprit straits, an' Nell
advised that I hev a talk with ye. 'Frank an' outright,' says Nell.
'Don't beat about the bush,' says she. 'Go right to th' point an'
they'll say yes or no."
Beth laughed merrily, and the boy smiled as he wielded his brush with
delicate strokes.
"Ye mustn't mind me, miss," said Will Rogers, in a deprecating tone.
"I'm--I'm sommut broke up an' discouraged, an' ain't th' man I used to
be. Nell knows that, an' she orter came herself; but it jes' made her
cry to think o' it, an' so I says I'll come an' do the best I kin."
Beth was really interested now.
"Sit down on this bench, Mr. Rogers," she said, "and I'll listen to
whatever you have to say."
He sat down willingly, bent forward as he rested upon the garden bench,
and twirled his hat slowly in his hands.
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