The middle girl, Sissie, never would take
her thumb out of her mouth-not even long enough to tell me her
real name. Eftie, the biggest one, couldn't play because she had
to tend to her baby sister.
The boy named Philip wouldn't play with me either. He had a
bad earache. He had been crying with it when they all came home
from the schoolhouse, and he kept on crying, even after Mama
heated up a skillet of salt and fixed a poultice sack for him to
hold against his ear. Finally, when Aunt Vic warmed some milk for
him to drink, he began to feel better.
While Aunt Vic was making biscuits, Mama and Miss Lida Belle
were trying to decide what would be the best thing to do for Miss
Dink.
"It's dreadful cold in that far side room," Miss Lida Belle
told Mama. "Let's move her 'cross the hall to the fireplace
room."
Mama sent me out to the woodpile to get Papa. He came, and
together they rolled Miss Dink up in a blanket, and Papa toted
her across the hall. When Papa laid Miss Dink on the freshly made
bed, she sank down into the feather mattress so far I could
hardly see her wrinkled face.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272