Go to sleep now, honey, you an' him, an' I'll be right on the spot when needed. Lemme whisper to her thess a minute, doctor?
I thess want to tell you, honey, thet you never, even in yo' young days, looked ez purty to my eyes ez what you do right now. An' that boy is yo' boy, an' I ain't a-goin' to lay no mo' claim to 'im 'n to see thet you have yo' way with 'im—you hear? An' now good night, honey, an' go to sleep.
They wasn't nothin' lef for me to do but to come out here in this ol' woodshed where nobody wouldn't see me ac' like a plumb baby.
An' now, seem like I can't git over it! The idee o' me, fifty year ol', actin' like this!
An' she knows it! An' she's got 'im—a boy—layin' in the bed 'longside 'er.
"Mother an' child doin' well!" Lord, Lord! How often I've heerd that said! But it never give me the all-overs like it does now, some way.
Guess I'll gether up a' armful o' wood, an' try to act unconcerned—an' laws-a-mercy me! Ef—to-day—ain't—been—Christmas! My! my! my! An' it come an' gone befo' I remembered!
I'll haf to lay this wood down ag'in an' think.
I've had many a welcome Christmas gif' in my life, but the idee o' the good Lord a-timin' this like that!