"Oh, Tchorch, oh, Tchorch!"
But George never heard her feeble cry in the torrent. He had forgotten her and the boy.
And when she could again see for her tears she was alone save for Sam, her faithful Sam, and Annawillee and Indian Annie, the last to climb the hill. Even Chihuahua had gone and all the Chinamen. She saw Wong departing last of all. The fire drew even the philosopher. She heard Annie speak to her.
"Ho, tenas Jenny, toketie Jenny, dis your man, mesachie Pete. Evelybody savvy Pete done um, Jenny. Oh, what peety toketie house mamook piah, all bu'n, all flame."
"Oho, hyu keely, hyu keely," moaned Annawillee, "pletty house mamook piah. Mamook nanitch you' papoosh, Jenny, let me see papoosh."
These were foul and filthy hags, and now Jenny knew it. She cried and Sam did not know what to do.
"Missus, you no cly," he said despairingly. But still she cried, and Annie sat down by her.
"Where Mista Quin klatawa? Ha, Moola mamook piah all same yo' toketie house, tenas. Now you got halo house, you come mine, Jenny."
And Annawillee lifted the quilt from the baby and saw it.
"Hyu toketie papoosh, hyu toketie, ha, I love papoosh, Jenny's papoosh."