“Yes, and a musterd poultice for its little bowels,” ses the old woman.
By this time all the niggers on the place was up gettin’ hot-baths, and teas, and musterd poultices, and ingun-juice, and Lord knows what all, for the baby. Muther and the galls was flyin’ about like they was crazy, and I was so tarrified myself that I didn’t know which eend I stood on. In the hurryment and confusion, Aunt Katy upsot the tea-kittle and scalded little Moses, and he sot up a yell in the kitchin loud enuff to be heard a mile, and I knocked the lamp off the table, and spilled the oil all everything, tryin’ to turn round three ways at the same time. After breakin’ two or three cups and sassers, and settin’ Mary’s night-cap afire with the candle, old Miss Stallins made out to git a tea-spoonful of sut tea in the baby’s mouth, hot enuff to scald its life out, and then ther was such another to-do as nobody ever did hear before.
“Wa!—wa-ya!—ke-wa!—ke-wa-ah!” went the baby.
“Good gracious! mother, the tea’s bilin’ hot,” ses sister Carline.
“My lord! Prissy, hain’t you got no better sense? What upon yeath did you give it to me so hot for?” ses the old woman when she put her finger in the cup.
“Miss Kesiah tell me pour bilin’ water on it,” ses Prissy, with her eyes as big as sassers.
“Wa-ya! ke-wa-ah! ke-wa!” ses the baby, kickin’ and fistin’ away like all rath.
“Whar’s the draps, Joseph? Git the draps, it must be colicky,” ses old Miss Stallins.
I got the parrygorrick as quick as I could, and tried to pour out five draps, as she told me. But my hand trimbled so I couldn’t drap it to save me.
“Give it to me, Joseph,” ses she; “you’s too agitated.”