"
"I know what made ye!" spoke up the boy, with an earnest stare.
"What, Sir,--if you please?"
"The angels!"
"The--the what, Sir?"
"The angels! I seen 'em!" says Fessenden's.
This astounding announcement was followed by a strange hush. Bill forgot
to smooth out the creases of his coat, and looked suspiciously at the
youth whom it had served as a saddle. He wondered if he had really been
ridden by the Devil.
The old woman now interfered. She was at least seventy years of age. The
hair of her head was like mixed carded wool. Her coarse, cleanly gown
was composed of many-colored, curious patches. The atmosphere of
thorough grandmotherly goodness surrounded her. In the twilight sky of
her dusky face twinkled shrewdness and good-humor; and her voice was
full of authority and kindness.
"Stan' back here now, you troubles!" pushing the children aside.
"Didn't none on ye never see nobody afore? This 'ere chile has got to be
took keer on, and that mighty soon! Gi' me the comf'table off'm the bed,
mammy."
"Mammy" was the mother of the children. The "comf'table" was brought,
and she and her husband helped the old negress wrap Fessenden's up in
it, from head to foot, wet clothes and all.
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