The baby was crying lustily for his breakfast, when Sally saw the smoke of a farmhouse and with some hesitation drew near it. A man, coming from the barn, was just carrying in a foaming pail of milk.
“Oh, if youse’d gimme de full of de bottle!” cried Sally.
“What for?” said the man gruffly.
“For de byby,” answered Sally.
“Why don’t you have your own milk?” said the man. “There, hold your dipper.”
But Sally hadn’t any dipper; and at that moment a thin, colorless woman appeared at the door, a look of wonder and then another of pity and sweetness sweeping over her face; and Sally and the baby were in the kitchen directly afterward.
“Where’d you come f’m?” the woman asked Sally.
“Down below,” said Sally, who had no notion of telling.
“Whar’ you goin’?”
“Goin’ on.”