SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 70 | Next

Daviess, Maria Thompson, 1872-1924

"The Melting of Molly"

The young farmer was red with
embarrassment and anxiety.
"She's all right to-day, but she worries because she don't think I can
tend to the baby right," he said; and he did look helpless. "Her mother
had to go home for two days, but is coming to-morrow. I dasn't undress
and wash the youngster myself. It won't hurt him to stay bundled up
until granny comes, will it, Doc?"
"Not a bit," answered Doctor John in his big comforting voice.
But I looked at the girl and I understood her. She wanted that baby
clean and fresh even if it was just five days old, and I felt all of a
sudden terribly capable. I picked up the bundle and went into the other
room with it where a kettle was boiling on the stove and a large bucket
by the door. I found things by just a glance from her, and the hour I
spent with that small baby was one of the most delicious of all my life.
I never was left entirely to myself with one before and I did all I
wanted to this one, guided by instinct and desire. He slept right
through and was the darlingest thing I ever saw when I laid him back on
the bed by her. I never looked in Doctor John's direction once, though
I felt him all the time.


Pages:
58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82