spreading stuff
like that and my reputation will be ruined.”
“Where is Myrtle?”
“Sleeping next to my Jonathan. They look like two little peas in a baby pod.”
“Jeb, tell Willie that girls don’t like boys to make bad pencil drawings of them with big body parts!” Angel stormed through
the door, red-faced and holding up a lewd drawing.
“She stole it from my books. Besides, it’s not you, so what do you care?” Willie tore the drawing from his sister’s hand.
“It was quiet for a moment,” said Jeb.
“Don’t wake up your little sister,” Belinda whispered.
“Sister?” Angel laughed and glanced at Jeb. “Willie’s sweet on Tillie Whittington. If she saw how he drew her with giant—”
“Angel! Lower your tone. Babies are sleeping and we don’t want to hear your ridiculous feud with Willie.” Jeb yanked the drawing
from Willie’s hand. “That don’t look like Tillie Whittington anyway.”
“I’m hungry and I don’t want cold corn bread neither,” said Ida May.
“Have an apple and then go get on your studies,” said Jeb.
“I put the babies in the kids’ room. Maybe they can study in the kitchen,” said Belinda.
“I study in the kitchen,” Jeb whispered. Then he heard Myrtle cry out in the next room.
“I’m leaving you with it, Preacher. Got to get my brood home for a meal. My boyfriend’s skinned a deer and we’re having a
get-together tonight. You’re more than welcome to come, maybe bring a lady friend if you want. But it’s not what you would
call a church social.”
He declined as politely as he knew how. “Does Myrtle need another feeding?”
“She should be fine. Doc gave me a can of evaporated milk for babies. It’s not as good as momma’s milk, but I poured it into
a couple of bottles for you. They’re in the icebox, so you can warm them in a pan of hot water. Not too hot, though. A bottle
feeding should help you get her to sleep tonight.”
Belinda retrieved her large bundle of baby boy and left for the night.
“You getting the hang of this baby business?” asked Angel.
“The next thing I’m expecting to hear is that my family was taken by a tornado and all eight of my nephews and nieces will
be coming to live with me,” said Jeb.
“We don’t have enough beds,” said Ida May.
Willie snatched his drawing out of Jeb’s hands. “I think it looks just like Tilly. She could work in Hollywood if you ask
me.”
Jeb took the rocker inside. What with the settling of cold upon the nights, rocking in the evening had fast lost its appeal.
As the girls took turns passing Myrtle back and forth in the front parlor, they used the rocking chair to lull her into a
stupor for at least a part of the evening so that Jeb could concentrate on his weekly study. Angel had borrowed some baby
dresses from one of the girls at school who had filched them from her mother’s grab bag of clothes. She and Ida May dressed
and undressed Myrtle like a doll, deciding what clothes would fit and what they could put up for later.
Willie cracked open pecans with a hammer, trying to abide by Angel’s request to store as many as possible for a good pie come
Thanksgiving. But the temptation to partake of the fruit of his labor had thus far caused his yield to amount to only a handful
of fresh shelled pecan nuts. He poured them into a jar with a newspaper funnel.
“Whoever give us this baby didn’t give us enough clothes to outfit a termite,” said Ida May.
“Her curls is getting long around her face. Wonder how long until I can tie up her hair in a ribbon?” asked Angel.
Jeb sat forward and lay his Bible in his lap. “It’s quiet tonight.”
“Starts getting colder and the toads go dormant,” said Willie.
“Not a bird or anything, though, is making a sound.” Jeb went back to his reading.
“I like it best when it snows and everything is softly quiet at night. If you look out the winder on a snowy night, it’s like
the Lord has
like that and my reputation will be ruined.”
“Where is Myrtle?”
“Sleeping next to my Jonathan. They look like two little peas in a baby pod.”
“Jeb, tell Willie that girls don’t like boys to make bad pencil drawings of them with big body parts!” Angel stormed through
the door, red-faced and holding up a lewd drawing.
“She stole it from my books. Besides, it’s not you, so what do you care?” Willie tore the drawing from his sister’s hand.
“It was quiet for a moment,” said Jeb.
“Don’t wake up your little sister,” Belinda whispered.
“Sister?” Angel laughed and glanced at Jeb. “Willie’s sweet on Tillie Whittington. If she saw how he drew her with giant—”
“Angel! Lower your tone. Babies are sleeping and we don’t want to hear your ridiculous feud with Willie.” Jeb yanked the drawing
from Willie’s hand. “That don’t look like Tillie Whittington anyway.”
“I’m hungry and I don’t want cold corn bread neither,” said Ida May.
“Have an apple and then go get on your studies,” said Jeb.
“I put the babies in the kids’ room. Maybe they can study in the kitchen,” said Belinda.
“I study in the kitchen,” Jeb whispered. Then he heard Myrtle cry out in the next room.
“I’m leaving you with it, Preacher. Got to get my brood home for a meal. My boyfriend’s skinned a deer and we’re having a
get-together tonight. You’re more than welcome to come, maybe bring a lady friend if you want. But it’s not what you would
call a church social.”
He declined as politely as he knew how. “Does Myrtle need another feeding?”
“She should be fine. Doc gave me a can of evaporated milk for babies. It’s not as good as momma’s milk, but I poured it into
a couple of bottles for you. They’re in the icebox, so you can warm them in a pan of hot water. Not too hot, though. A bottle
feeding should help you get her to sleep tonight.”
Belinda retrieved her large bundle of baby boy and left for the night.
“You getting the hang of this baby business?” asked Angel.
“The next thing I’m expecting to hear is that my family was taken by a tornado and all eight of my nephews and nieces will
be coming to live with me,” said Jeb.
“We don’t have enough beds,” said Ida May.
Willie snatched his drawing out of Jeb’s hands. “I think it looks just like Tilly. She could work in Hollywood if you ask
me.”
Jeb took the rocker inside. What with the settling of cold upon the nights, rocking in the evening had fast lost its appeal.
As the girls took turns passing Myrtle back and forth in the front parlor, they used the rocking chair to lull her into a
stupor for at least a part of the evening so that Jeb could concentrate on his weekly study. Angel had borrowed some baby
dresses from one of the girls at school who had filched them from her mother’s grab bag of clothes. She and Ida May dressed
and undressed Myrtle like a doll, deciding what clothes would fit and what they could put up for later.
Willie cracked open pecans with a hammer, trying to abide by Angel’s request to store as many as possible for a good pie come
Thanksgiving. But the temptation to partake of the fruit of his labor had thus far caused his yield to amount to only a handful
of fresh shelled pecan nuts. He poured them into a jar with a newspaper funnel.
“Whoever give us this baby didn’t give us enough clothes to outfit a termite,” said Ida May.
“Her curls is getting long around her face. Wonder how long until I can tie up her hair in a ribbon?” asked Angel.
Jeb sat forward and lay his Bible in his lap. “It’s quiet tonight.”
“Starts getting colder and the toads go dormant,” said Willie.
“Not a bird or anything, though, is making a sound.” Jeb went back to his reading.
“I like it best when it snows and everything is softly quiet at night. If you look out the winder on a snowy night, it’s like
the Lord has
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