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The little boy carelessly drew the back of his hand across his mouth. -What are you doing?- she asked. -Are you wiping my kiss off?- -Naw 'm, - he replied, -I's jest a-I's a-rubbin' it in, I reckon.- -Come in, William, - and his aunt led the way through the wide hall into w big bedroom. -Billy, ma'am, - corrected her nephew. -William, - firmly repeated Miss Minerva. -You may have been called Billy on that plantation where you were allowed to run wild with the negroes, but your name is William Green Hill and I shall insist upon your being called by it.