XVII - MADAME ISIS––––––––
“YEP, MISS AVICE, I gotter go. Judge Hoyt, he’s got me a norful good place in a lawyer’s office, an’ I’m goin’ to get quite a bunch o’ money offen it. I do hate to leave this little ole town, but I don’t wanta trow down that swell job in Philly. So I come over to say goo’by, an’ if you’ll lemme I’d like to wish you well.”
Fibsy was embarrassed, as he always was in the presence of gentlefolk. The boy was so honestly ambitious, and tried so hard to overcome his street slang and to hide his ignorance of better language, that he usually became incoherent and tongue-tied.
“I’m glad, Fibsy,” Avice said, for she somehow liked to use his funny nickname, “that Judge Hoyt did get you a good position and I hope you’ll make good in it.”
“Yes’m, I sure hope so, but you se
