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"I see him drop a man in his tracks oncet, an' cry like a noo-born babby 'cos ther' wa'n't a chu'ch book in Lone Brake Settlement, an' he'd forgot his prayers, an' had ter let the feller lie around fer the coyotes, instead o' buryin' him decent. That's a whiles ago. Guess Lone Brake's changed some. They do say ther's a Bible ther' now.
"That woman is here," replied the chief gravely, casting a brief glance down at the wrinkled old visage that nestled upon his breast "my mother." "Whew!" whistled the trapper, opening his eyes very wide indeed. For the third time that day he was constrained to admit that he had been thrown completely off the scent, and that, in regard to cleverness, he was no better than a "squawkin' babby."
"I doubt it's the water got on his brain," said aunt Pullet, turning round from adjusting her cap in a melancholy way at the pier-glass. "It's much if he ever gets up again; and if he does, he'll most like be childish, as Mr. Carr was, poor man! They fed him with a spoon as if he'd been a babby for three year.
"There's our parson and he's a good man, though not half good enough for her why, you might as well talk to a babby three months old! If I told him, he'd only think I was crazy; and like as not he'd send for old Doctor Kenyon to come up and feel my head, same as they did wi' Shepherd Toller, Clun Downs way, before they put him in the asylum.
"In fact I was just castin' about in my mind w'en you came up how I could best throw Ally Babby off the scent as to w'ere I was goin'." "Me manages dat for yoo," said Angela, with a bright significant smile, as she turned and called to the interpreter. Ali, who was rather fond of female society, at once advanced with a bow of gracious orientality.
"'Then it's just that she may send her own child away, and give her milk to the English babby that's coming; because the lady is too much of a lady to have a child hanging to her breast. "'But suppose Mary Sullivan's child ar'n't born till afterwards, how then?" says I. 'Speak, Mrs O'Rourke, for you're a sensible woman. "'How then? says she.
"A gert, tall think 'e be, wi' a 'orn on 'is 'ead, and likewise a tail; some might ha' thought 't was the Wanderin' Man o' the Roads as I found 'angin' on t' stapil some on 'em du, but I knowed better I knowed 't were Old Nick 'isself, all flame, and brimstone, an' wi' a babby under 'is arm!" "A baby?" I repeated. "A babby as ever was," nodded the Ancient.
While she stood irresolute, the man of whom she spoke chanced to turn the corner, and ran against her, somewhat roughly. "Hallo! is that you?" he demanded, in tones that told too clearly where he had been spending the night. "Yes, Ned, it's me. I was just thinking about going home." "Home, indeed 'stime to b'goin' home. Where'v you bin? The babby 'll 'v bin squallin' pretty stiff by this time."
"Shure, and that ye may," said Biddy, "and it's Winnie she was calling the day she died, jist before the life left her swate body; and how is the babby?" asked she, as Nannie followed her to the drawing-room.
"What does the woman want?" asks Mrs Gancy, greatly puzzled; all the rest sharing her wonder, save Seagriff, who answers, with a touch of anxiety in his voice, "She wants to barter off her babby, ma'am, for that 'ere scarf." "Oh!" exclaims Leoline, shocked, "surely you don't mean that, Mr Chips." "Sure I do, Miss; neyther more nor less. Thet's jest what the unnateral woman air up to.
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