"No," replied my father.
"Then come in and zee un—come in, Jasper," and she led the way into the cottage.
My father, who told me this years after, said he should never forget the curious feeling that came over him as he saw Betsey Fraddam's son. He looked even as a child like an old man, and he had a wild look in his eyes that made him shudder.
"He 'ed'n wot you may call a purty cheeld, es a, then?" asked Betsey.
My father did not reply.
"Well, we ca'ant expect for Betsey Fraddam to 'ave purty cheldern, can us, then?"
My father was still silent, for Betsey had a strange way with her that made people afraid. Even I can remember that.
"You may have a son some day, Jasper."
"No," said my father.
"But you may," said Betsey, "you may; I do'ant main nothin' wrong, Jasper. Margaret Quethiock es well off, and her father do oan the Barton. Think about it, Jasper. And then ef you do ever have a son, you'll tell 'im to be kind to Eli, wa'ant 'ee now, Jasper?"