Rachel, Ned's wife, watched them, her lips twisted in a fond, wise smile, as she pressed the big loaf to her breast and cut thick slices of bread-and-jam. She had made a place for you beside her. "She sengs ersen to slape wid a li'l' song she maakes," Rachel said. "Tha'll seng that li'l' song for Mester Dan, wuntha?" Dumpling hid her face and sang.