human
Then the cry fell to a moan, Which was changed a moment later to another frenzied tone:
gpt
Black yer boots, sir? Just a nickel! Shine 'em like an evening star. It grows late, Jack! Night is coming. Evening papers, here they are!
human
Teacher, cried he,
gpt
I remember what you said the other day, Ma's been reading of the Saviour, and through Him I see my way. He is with me! Jack, I charge you of our mother take good care When Jim's gone! Hark! boots or papers, which will I be over there? Black yer boots, sir? Shine 'em right up! Papers! Read God's book instead, Better'n papers that to die on! Jack--