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Them two didn't amount to much to my way o' thinkin', but their pa an' ma set considerable store by 'em ... Ben Letts were a bad 'un, too. It used to make me plumb ugly to see 'im botherin' Tess when ye was shet up, Orn, an' him all the time the daddy of Myry's brat." "Yep, Ben were bad," agreed Skinner.
If she could get out of the shanty, she could run from him, but that would leave the child to his mercy. She glanced toward the door. Whatever came to her, she must protect the babe. Lifting him from his bed, she sat down at the oven, and extended the blue legs toward the heat. "He air so damn thin," she said in excuse, "that he allers yaps if he air cold.... Have ye seen Myry's kid lately?"
"Where air Myry's ma?" asked Tessibel presently. "Back there, in Ezy's bed. She air sick, and so air Mammy Letts." "Ezy were buried yesterday," ruminated Tess. "Yep, and Myry be a-goin' to the same place. Ma and me air alone." There was something strangely pathetic in the quiet words, in the stolid, ugly face with its hard lines, in the mouth twitching at the corners as he spoke.
"Yep, Tess; take one from Myry's box. They ain't good, but our little brat wored them." Aimlessly, she lay down again and ceased speaking, but whimpered until Tess left the room. The girl made her choice from the small stock of dresses that had been worn by the Longman family, and had at last descended to the little dead boy. On her way home to the hut once more, Tess paused on the rocks.
Tess came forward to the wooden box, holding in her hand the frying-pan filled with bacon fat, and gazed down upon the baby Dan, contemplating the wee old-man face thoughtfully. "He air sick! He air a look on him what air on Myry's brat kind of sickly.
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