"I read in the paper that you have no one and are alone and rich. My baby has no one but me, and I can't get work. Won't you take him? His name is John—that's all."
"JOHN'S MOTHER."
Drusilla pushed the glasses up on her forehead and used a slang expression that almost drew a smile from solemn James.
"Now what do you know about that!"
She looked at James as if he should have an answer, and he said:
"I'm sure, Miss Doane, I don't know anything about it at all."
Drusilla looked down at the baby in the basket, and again at the letter, not knowing what to do; but, the little wail again rising, she reached down to take the baby into her arms, and found it securely pinned into the basket.
"Poor little mother!" she said. "She didn't want you to get cold."
As she took out the safety-pins and lifted the baby into her arms, she dislodged a bottle of milk.
"Why, she thought of everything! She must 'a' loved you, little John, even though she left you on my doorstep."