but Polly would. Polly always took the part of old Buzzard, so she could
flop down in Dilsy's seat, although she knew she would have to get right
up.

Somehow, that evening Roberta's strategy did not seem to have accomplished
its object, judging from Polly's expression. Still she hoped for the best.
Polly was the biggest, so she always begun with her.

"Who made you, Polly?"

No answer immediately; then,

"Dunno fur sarten, spec' 't wuz Gord."

A lump gathered in the child's throat. Her bump of reverence was so
largely developed it distressed her to see a want of it in others; she
said "it hurt her feelings."

She passed it by, however, and ventured on another.

"What else did God make?"

"Dunno fur sarten, never seed 'im wuken'."

"For shame, Polly! God made all things. Say 'God made all things.'"

"No, never. Never made Dilsy thar. Dilsy nuffin' but er scrap he throw'd
erway when he got fru cutten' out de grow'd-up ones."

"For shame, Polly! Don't you know everybody has to be little and grow up."