"
"I don't know but I could grow to like the baby in time," said Vilda,
"though it's my opinion she's goin' to be dreadful troublesome; but I'm
more 'n half afraid of the boy. Every time he looks at me with those
searchin' eyes of his, I mistrust he's goin' to say something about
Marthy,--all on account of his giving me such a turn when he came to the
door."
"He'd be awful handy round the house, though, Vildy; that is, if he _is_
handy,--pickin' up chips, 'n' layin' fires, 'n' what not; but, 's you
say, he ain't so takin' as the baby at first sight. She's got the same
winnin' way with her that Marthy hed!"
"Yes," said Miss Vilda grimly; "and I guess it's the devil's own way."
"Well, yes, mebbe; 'n' then again mebbe 't ain't. There ain't no reason
why the devil should own all the han'some faces 'n' tunesome laughs, 't
I know of. It doos seem 's if beauty was turrible misleading', 'n' I've
ben glad sometimes the Lord didn't resk none of it on me; for I was
behind the door when good looks was give out, 'n' I'm willin' t' own up
to it; but, all the same, I like to see putty faces roun' me, 'n' I
guess when the Lord sets his mind on it He can make goodness 'n' beauty
git along comf'tably in the same body. When yer come to that, hombly
folks ain't allers as good 's they might be, 'n' no comfort to anybody's
eyes, nuther."
"You think the boy's all right in the upper story, do you? He's a
strange kind of a child, to my thinkin'."
"I ain't so sure but he's smarter 'n we be, but he talks queer, 'n' no
mistake.
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