“Convulsion,” Lou replied succinctly, as the 122woman rushed in once more with her apron full of chips. “Git some more, it don’t matter how you clog the stove with wood ashes; we gotta git boilin’ water as quick as we kin.”
Meanwhile Jim found the Colbert house, explained his mission, and having accomplished it, hastened back. He pulled the bell, but no one came, and knocking, found that the door yielded to his touch. Entering, he went down the hall and paused at the kitchen door just as the woman stammered:
“I d-don’t think there are any dry kindlings left.”
“Then chop some! Ain’t you got any old boxes? Oh, Jim!” Lou caught sight of him in the doorway. “Find a hatchet and some light, dry wood, will you?”
The fire was roaring in the stove at last, but the water was long in boiling, and the little figure in the man’s arms seemed to be undergoing a subtle but inevitable change. His lips were still parted, but no faintest stir of breath emanated from them, and the rigidity had taken on a marble-like cast.
123The mother bent over him, moaning once more, but Lou turned upon her in swift scorn.
“For goodness’ sake, where’s that tub or pan I asked you for? He’s got a chance, a good chance if you don’t waste any more time! What you been givin’ him, anyway?” she added, as the woman flew to do her bidding.
“Nothing but a little green corn. He relishes it, and it’s so cute to see him try to chew it─”
“Green corn!” Lou repeated, as she seized the heavy kettle and began pouring its steaming contents into the tub. “Ain’t nobody in your family ever had any babies before?”
She hastily added to the tub a quantity of yellowish powder from a can which she had found upon the shelf of groceries, and marched determinedly over to the man who was seated in the chair.