Part 103 (2/2)

The room was barer than he had ever seen it--a table, three chairs, a cradle, a dresser, and a corner cupboard. Nancy sat by the fire with the child on her lap. Pete was squatting on the floor, which was strewn with rushes, and singing--

”Come, Bridget, Saint Bridget, come in at my door, The crock's on the bink, and the rush is on the floor.”

Then getting on to all fours like a great boy, and bobbing his head up and down and making deep growls to imitate the terrors of a wild beast, he made little runs and plunges at the child, who jumped and crowed in Nancy's lap and laughed and squealed till she ”kinked.”

”Now, stop, you great omathaun, stop,” said Nancy. ”It isn't good for the lil one--'deed it isn't.”

But Pete was too greedy of the child's joy to deny himself the delight of it. Making a great low sweep of the room, he came back hopping on his haunches and barking like a dog. Then the child laughed till the laughter rolled like a marble in her little throat.

Philip's own throat rose at the sight, and his breast began to ache. He felt the same thrill as before--the same, yet different, more painful, more full of jealous longing. This was no place for him. He thought he would go away. But turning on his heel, he was seen by Pete, who was now on his back on the floor, rocking the child up and down like the bellows of an accordion, and to and fro like the sleigh of a loom.

”My faith, the Dempster! Come in, sir, come in,” cried Pete, looking over his forehead. Then, giving the child back to Nancy, he leapt to his feet.

Philip entered with a sick yearning and sat down in the chair facing Nancy.

”You're wondering at me, Dempster, I know you are, sir,” Said Pete, ”'Deed, but I'm wondering at myself as well. I thought I was never going to see a glad day again, and if the sky would ever be blue I would be breaking my heart. But what is the Manx poet saying, sir? 'I have no will but Thine, O G.o.d.' That's me, sir, truth enough, and since the lil one has been mending I've never been so happy in my life.”

Philip muttered some commonplace, and put his thumb into the baby's hand. It was sucked in by the little fingers as by the soft feelers of the sea-anemone.

Pete drew up the third chair, and then all interest was centred on the child. ”She's growing,” said Philip huskily.

”And getting wise ter'ble,” said Pete. ”You wouldn't be-lave it, sir, but that child's got the head of an almanac. She has, though. Listen here, sir--what does the cow say, darling?”

”Moo-o,” said the little one.

”Look at that now!” said Pete rapturously.

”She knows what the dog says too,” said Nancy. ”What does Dempster say, bogh?”

”Bow-wow,” said the child.

”Bless me soul!” said Pete, turning to Philip with amazement at the child's supernatural wisdom. ”And there's Tom Hommy's boy--and a fine lil fellow enough for all--but six weeks older than this one, and not a word out of him yet.”

Hearing himself talked of, the dog had come from under the table. The child gurgled down at it, then made purring noises at its own feet, and wriggled in Nancy's lap.

”Dear heart alive, if it's not like nursing an eel,” said Nancy. ”Be quiet, will you?” and the little one was shaken back to her seat.

”Aisy all, woman,” said Pete. ”She's just wanting her lil shoes and stockings off, that's it.” Then talking to the child.

”Um--am-im--lum--la--loo? Just so! I don't know what that means myself, but she does, you see. Aw, the child is taiching me heaps, sir.

Listening to the lil one I'm remembering things. Well, we're only big children, the best of us. That's the way the world's keeping young, and G.o.d help it when we're getting so clever there's no child left in us at all.”

”Time for young women to be in bed, though,” said Nancy, getting up to give the baby her bath.

”Let me have a hould of the rogue first,” said Pete, and as Nancy took the child out of the room, he dragged at it and smothered its open mouth with kisses.

”Poor sport for you, sir, watching a foolish ould father playing games with his lil one,” said Pete.

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