Tunk shied off and began to build a fire; Miss S'mantha sat down
weeping, the girl ran away in the darkness, and Trove put the baby
in Miss Letitia's arms.
"I'll run over to Leblanc's cabin," said he, getting his cap and
coat. "They're having trouble over there."
He left them and hurried off on his way to the little cabin.
Loud cries of the baby rang in that abode of silence. It began to
kick and squirm with determined energy. Poor Miss Letitia had the
very look of panic in her face. She clung to the fierce little
creature, not knowing what to do. Miss S'mantha lay back in a fit
of hysterics. Tunk advanced bravely, with brows knit, and stood
looking down at the baby.
"Lord! this is awful!" said he. Then a thought struck him. "I'll
git some milk," he shouted, running into the buttery.
The baby thrust the cup away, and it fell noisily, the milk
streaming over a new rag carpet.
"It's sick; I'm sure it's sick," said Miss Letitia, her voice
trembling. "S'mantha, can't you do something?"
Miss S'mantha calmed herself a little and drew near.
"Jes' like a wil'cat," said Tunk, thoughtfully. "Powerful, too,"
he added, with an effort to control one of the kicking legs.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146