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Updated: May 1, 2025
An' her mother she step' in the next room with the door half-open an' never paid no 'tention. Recollec' one col'night when I was sparkin' the mother hollered out o' bed, "Lucy, hev ye got anythin 'round ye?" an' she hollered back, "Yis, mother," an' she hed too but 'twan't nothin' but my arm.
David sat near me, his face in the firelight the broad brow wrinkled into furrows and framed in locks of iron-grey. He was looking thoughtfully at the fire. Uncle Eb came soon, stamping and shaking the snow out of his great fur coat. 'Col'night, he said, warming his hands. Then he carried his coat and cap away, returning shortly, with a little box in his hand.
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