Jacky was restless and wakeful , but did not suffer , and liked to talk . Frances listened to him with a new-born power of sympathy , which she thought she must have caught from Corona . He told her all the tragedy of his short life , and how bad he felt , about Dad 's taking to drink and Mammy 's having to work so hard . The pitiful little sentences made Frances 's heart ache . The maternal instinct of the true woman awoke in her . She took a sudden liking to the child . He was a spiritual little creature , and his sufferings had made him old and wise . Once in the night he told Frances that he thought the angels must look like her . `` You are so sweet pretty , '' he said gravely . `` I never saw anyone so pretty , not even Miss C'rona . You look like a picture I once saw on Mr. Sherwood 's table when I was up at the manse one day ` fore I got so bad I could n't walk . It was a woman with a li'l baby in her arms and a kind of rim round her head . I would like something most awful much . '' `` What is it , dear ? '' said Frances gently . `` If I can get or do it for you , I will . '' `` You could , '' he said wistfully , `` but maybe you wo n't want to . But I do wish you 'd come here just once every day and sit here five minutes and let me look at you -- just that . Will it be too much trouble ? '' Frances stooped and kissed him .
`` I will come every day , XXXXX , '' she said ; and a look of ineffable content came over the thin little face .
C'rona Corona Dad Frances Jacky Mammy Sherwood day minutes night