“No, you know he ain't,” said Mrs. Baker.
“Well, I want to take 'im in my bed.” Pole stood out on the floor in the sheet of moonlight that fell through the open door.
“I wouldn't, Pole,” said the woman. “The pore little feller's been toddlin' about after the others, draggin' bresh to the heap tell he's tired. He drapped to sleep at the table with a piece o' bread in his mouth.”
“I won't wake 'im, God bless his little heart,” answered Pole, and he reached down and took the limp child in his arms and pressed him against the side of his face. He carried him tenderly across the room and laid down with him. His wife heard him uttering endearing things to the unconscious child until she fell asleep.
XIII
