“Kind o’ takes to me!” he said. He held out tentative hands, waggling the fingers, and the child looked at them gravely, and leaned forward a little, and broke into glee as Uncle William seized her and swung her toward the ceiling.
“She’s not afraid of you,” said Sergia proudly.
“Afraid of me!... I reckon she couldn’t be afraid of Uncle William—!” There was something a little misty behind the big spectacles... the blue eyes looked out at the child from forgotten seas. She grasped the tufts of beard and tugged at them, rocking hard, and making remarks to them.
Uncle William smiled in triumph and seized the hand. “I reckon I might as well take her down to my house,” he said. “She’s got to learn the way sometime.”
Sergia’s face was a little alarmed—“You couldn’t take care of her.”
“I don’t know why,” said Uncle William, “I reckon I can take all the care she needs—She don’t need any entertainin’.” He gazed at her fondly and chucked her a little.
“She has to be fed,” said Sergia.
“I’ll tend to feedin’ her myself,” said Uncle William, “Nobody ever starved—to my house. You got a little bunnet for her somewheres?” He put his big hand on the shining head.
Sergia looked at them reflectively. “She has to have special milk, you know—?”
“I get mine to Andy’s,” said Uncle William. “It’s just as special as any, ain’t it—Andy’s milk?”