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Tessibel watched Ezra, waiting for him to speak again. She feared the child would cry out feared that the dark secret of the improvised cradle would get into the hands of her enemies. "Daddy ain't a-goin' to die," she said, quietly giving the grape-basket a touch with her foot, and deftly shoving it under the bed. Another smack told her that the infant was awake.
Ruth and he were picnicking, vulgar and unashamed, among the dunes at the end of the long board-walk, like the beer-drinking, pickle-eating parties of fishermen and the family groups with red table-cloths, grape-basket lunches, and colored Sunday supplements. Ruth declared that she preferred them to the elegant loungers who were showing off new motor-coats on the board-walk.
I has company now, and can't go. And I thought as how if you was a-goin', ye might do it for me." She stooped and raised the grape-basket in her hand, tendering it to Teola. The white lips became paler the young mother understood. "It air a nice day, and the sun will do ye a heap of good," explained Tess. "If I didn't have company, I wouldn't ask ye." Ben Letts stared sharply.
From one of the hooks among the rafters she took a large-sized grape-basket, which also received its cleansing treatment. After a bit of blanket had been cut from those on Skinner's bed, Tess slipped the infant into the basket, to see if it were long enough. The tiny feet did mot reach the bottom.
When K. came in, he had the old dog-collar in his hand. "Belonged to an old collie of ours," he said heavily. "Milkman ran over him and killed him. Max chased the wagon and licked the driver with his own whip." His face worked. "Poor old Bobby Burns!" he said. "We'd raised him from a pup. Got him in a grape-basket." The sick man opened his eyes.
"Then why did you bring that with you?" insisted Young, with a motion of his hand. "It is certainly heavy, or you would not have laid it down so carefully.... Child, if you won't let me give you anything, please allow me to buy the food which you work so hard to get." His hand fell upon the handle of the grape-basket, but Tessibel's remained obstinately on the other side.
"Well, 'tain't mine," she drawled after a time, "and it ain't belonging to anyone ye know. It air only a brat what ain't nothin' but a grape-basket to sleep in. And now ye says that if I wants my Daddy saved from the rope, I must tell yer whose it air. I says it ain't mine. And I says as how ye knows a new little bloke when ye sees one. Here it air!
Or had she made a mistake, and left the candle there? For the sake of the child she had to enter. She set down the pail, lifted her skirt, wiped away the traces of tears. Then, flinging wide the door, she came upon Ben Letts. Ben was standing beside the bed, with the open grape-basket in his hand, looking down intently upon the child.
To stand by the machine which turns out the familiar grape-basket, ready to fill with the fruit, and then to watch the housemaid bending over some piece of work, is to realize the difference. In few, very few operations is it necessary to-day that men should bend their backs, but in how many household processes is the worker expected to get down on all fours? The free-born American rebels.
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