“But couldn’t the nurse—for she was there—
Wouldn’t the nurse have known?”
“I tell you, boy,
I have no nurse. Something is stranger here—
Giddup!—than God is ever going to tell me.
Nurse? There was no such.”
And the horses galloped,
Jingling their bright bridles, till the dooryard
Darkened them, and Bruce’s mother stumbled,
Her apron at her face, among the plum trees.