“Lord help my soul and body, what can be the matter with my baby!” (tears coming in her own eyes.) “Something’s the matter with it; I know it is,” (laying the child on her lap, and feeling its arms, to see whether it flinched at the touch of any particular part.) But the child cried less while she was feeling it than before.
“Yes, dat was it; wanted litty arms yubb’d. Mud will yub its sweet little arms.”
(Child begins again.)
“What upon earth can make my baby cry so!” rising and walking to the window.
(Stops at the window, and the child hushes.)
“Yes, dat was it: did want to look out ’e windys. See the pretty chickens. O-o-o-h! Look, at, the beauty, rooster! Yonder’s old aunt Betty! See old aunt Betty, pickin’ up chips. Yes, ole aunt Betty, pickin’ up chip fo’ bake bicky (biscuit) fo’ good chilluns. Good aunt Betty fo’ make bicky fo’ sweet baby’s supper!”
(Child begins again.)
“Hoo-o-o! see de windy!” (knocking on the window. Child screams.)
“You Rose! what have you done to this child? You little hussy you, if you don’t tell me how you hurt him, I’ll whip you as long as I can find you!”
“Missis I ’cla’ I never done noth’n’ ’tall to him. I was jis sett’n’ down da by Miss Nancy’s bu—”