name. Throwing her arms wide, she jumped from her mother’s knee to the floor.
“Look how that baby can already fly!” said Miss Lexie in a voice of present warning, as Lady May ran about the porch sounding off louder than before.
“I’m going to catch you and run off with you, Britches!” Aunt Nanny called after her flying heels. “Who you hunting?”
“Pore little Lady May’s running in her petticoat and it reaches to the calf of her leg,” said Aunt Cleo. “Who made that!”
It had been made like a doll dress from a folded sugar sack, round holes cut for neck and arms, then stitched down the sides. A little flounce edged the bottom, a mother’s touch.
“It allowed for her to grow like she’s been growing—fast as a beanstalk,” said Miss Beulah. “Do you raise any objection to that?”
“No’m,” she said. “That’s nature, you got to accept it.”
“Well, we’ve been feeling mighty sorry for her!” Miss Beulah retorted.
The baby scrambled down the steps and out into the yard. Inher shoes coated white with cornstarch, their high heels tipping her a little forward, Gloria went after her. She walked fast but didn’t quite run, the way a thrush skims over the ground without needing to use wings.
“Don’t fall down! Don’t rake your dress on the rosebush! You’ve got to both be ready for Jack, got to look pretty for him!” came Etoyle’s cry.
The baby ran behind the quilt again and Gloria caught her on the other side. But she was already sliding, slick as a fish, from her arms and running ahead of her mother again.
Aunt Nanny headed off Lady May, and breathing hard she crouched and scooped up the baby in her arms. “I’ve come to steal you!” But Lady May squirmed free and charged up and down a little path that kept opening between their knees, over their patting feet.
“Well, in case anybody forgets how long Jack Renfro’s been gone, feel the weight of that ,” said Miss Lexie, and stopping the baby with a broom, she caught her and loaded her onto Granny Vaughn’s lap.
Even before her eyes opened, Granny had put both arms out. Lady May, the soles of her feet wrinkling like the old lady’s forehead, went to the weakest and most tenacious embrace she knew. They hugged long enough to remind each other that perhaps they were rivals.
“And what’s Jack know about his baby?” asked Aunt Cleo.
“Not a thing in this world. She’s his surprise!” cried Aunt Birdie. “What else would she be?”
“Yes sir! I’ve already started to wondering when she’s going to talk and what she’s fixing to say,” Miss Lexie said.
Lady May made a dart from Granny to Gloria, and Gloria took her up on her lap and began to make her a hat from the nearest plant stand within reach. She pinched off geranium leaves, lapping them over the child’s head, fastening them with the thornless stems from the pepper plant and the potted fairy rose that she bit to the right length. Some little girls drew near in a ring to watch, their hair falling beside their cheeks in pale stems, paler across the scissors’ slice, like fresh-cut lily stalks. Now Lady May had a hat.
“But where’s she going, where’s she going so soon?” Uncle Noah Webster teased Gloria.
“That’s for the future to say,” she replied.
Aunt Birdie said staunchly, “Well, a son can do something that’s a whole heap harder to bear than what Jack did.”
“That’s right, he could’ve kilt somebody,” said Aunt Cleo. “And been sentenced to die in the portable electric chair—they’d bring it right to your courthouse. And you-all could be having his funeral today, with a sealed coffin.”
They cried out at her.
Aunt Beck said in shocked tones, “Now I’m not blaming the boy!”
“Find fault with Jack? I’d hate to see the first one try it,” said Aunt Nanny.
“I’d hate to see anybody in the wide world try it!” Aunt Birdie cried.
“It’d be the easiest way to kill him,” said Miss Beulah.
“If ever
“Look how that baby can already fly!” said Miss Lexie in a voice of present warning, as Lady May ran about the porch sounding off louder than before.
“I’m going to catch you and run off with you, Britches!” Aunt Nanny called after her flying heels. “Who you hunting?”
“Pore little Lady May’s running in her petticoat and it reaches to the calf of her leg,” said Aunt Cleo. “Who made that!”
It had been made like a doll dress from a folded sugar sack, round holes cut for neck and arms, then stitched down the sides. A little flounce edged the bottom, a mother’s touch.
“It allowed for her to grow like she’s been growing—fast as a beanstalk,” said Miss Beulah. “Do you raise any objection to that?”
“No’m,” she said. “That’s nature, you got to accept it.”
“Well, we’ve been feeling mighty sorry for her!” Miss Beulah retorted.
The baby scrambled down the steps and out into the yard. Inher shoes coated white with cornstarch, their high heels tipping her a little forward, Gloria went after her. She walked fast but didn’t quite run, the way a thrush skims over the ground without needing to use wings.
“Don’t fall down! Don’t rake your dress on the rosebush! You’ve got to both be ready for Jack, got to look pretty for him!” came Etoyle’s cry.
The baby ran behind the quilt again and Gloria caught her on the other side. But she was already sliding, slick as a fish, from her arms and running ahead of her mother again.
Aunt Nanny headed off Lady May, and breathing hard she crouched and scooped up the baby in her arms. “I’ve come to steal you!” But Lady May squirmed free and charged up and down a little path that kept opening between their knees, over their patting feet.
“Well, in case anybody forgets how long Jack Renfro’s been gone, feel the weight of that ,” said Miss Lexie, and stopping the baby with a broom, she caught her and loaded her onto Granny Vaughn’s lap.
Even before her eyes opened, Granny had put both arms out. Lady May, the soles of her feet wrinkling like the old lady’s forehead, went to the weakest and most tenacious embrace she knew. They hugged long enough to remind each other that perhaps they were rivals.
“And what’s Jack know about his baby?” asked Aunt Cleo.
“Not a thing in this world. She’s his surprise!” cried Aunt Birdie. “What else would she be?”
“Yes sir! I’ve already started to wondering when she’s going to talk and what she’s fixing to say,” Miss Lexie said.
Lady May made a dart from Granny to Gloria, and Gloria took her up on her lap and began to make her a hat from the nearest plant stand within reach. She pinched off geranium leaves, lapping them over the child’s head, fastening them with the thornless stems from the pepper plant and the potted fairy rose that she bit to the right length. Some little girls drew near in a ring to watch, their hair falling beside their cheeks in pale stems, paler across the scissors’ slice, like fresh-cut lily stalks. Now Lady May had a hat.
“But where’s she going, where’s she going so soon?” Uncle Noah Webster teased Gloria.
“That’s for the future to say,” she replied.
Aunt Birdie said staunchly, “Well, a son can do something that’s a whole heap harder to bear than what Jack did.”
“That’s right, he could’ve kilt somebody,” said Aunt Cleo. “And been sentenced to die in the portable electric chair—they’d bring it right to your courthouse. And you-all could be having his funeral today, with a sealed coffin.”
They cried out at her.
Aunt Beck said in shocked tones, “Now I’m not blaming the boy!”
“Find fault with Jack? I’d hate to see the first one try it,” said Aunt Nanny.
“I’d hate to see anybody in the wide world try it!” Aunt Birdie cried.
“It’d be the easiest way to kill him,” said Miss Beulah.
“If ever
Similar Books
