“You don’t do that tomfool dressmakin’ with my leave and consent. I can keep my family and well, too, if you weren’t so set on robbin’ yerself fer Tom, who’ll land himself in prison yet for all of you, if, please God, he doesn’t drag the rest of us along with him.”
“I can wash the dishes and dress Billy if I may,” said Bird, timidly, feeling the tension of a bitter quarrel in the air.
“Well, you may try it for onct, but look to it you neither smash them nor make him cry; there’s days he near takes fits at the sight of water. Here’s his clean suit, and I’ll just go and finish up that silk skirt,” and Mrs. O’More pulled some clothes from a corner bureau and left Bird and Billy alone.
“Don’t you worry with what she says,” said O’More, in a gruff whisper, pressing Bird’s shoulder with his kindly grasp. “Just you be good to the little feller and yer Uncle John ’ll stand by yer, and maybe ye’ll see some way to chirk things up a bit. I’ve been thinkin’ some of puttin’ a bit uv an awning out on the ’scape to keep the sun off him while he’s takin’ the air, only travellin’ so much I’ve not got to it. I’d do it to-day, only I must go to the yards to unload a car o’ horses. To-morrer, maybe, I’ll stay around home.”
“Don’t you want any breakfast, Billy?” Bird asked, as her uncle clumped downstairs.
“No,—yes,—I’m hungry, but I’m tired more,” he answered, laying his head on the table.
“Suppose I wash and dress you first, and then you can go out on the piazza and eat something and see if you can spy Tessie.”
“Will you hurt Billy’s bones when you wash him? Ma always does,” he added, his lower lip beginning to quiver. He always called himself by name and often spoke in short sentences as very young children do.
“I’ll try not to; and if I do, you must tell me and I’ll stop right away.”