"How sound asleep the little thing is," she observed, smoothing
Fairy Carrie's cheek from dark eye-circle to chin, "and her flesh so
cold!"
"She's just slept that way ever since J. D. put her in his cart!"
exclaimed aunt Corinne. "We made her open her eyes and take some
breakfast in her mouth, but she went to sleep again while she's
eatin'."
"And we let her sleep ever since," added Bobaday. "It didn't make a
bit of difference whether the cart went jolt-erty-jolt over stones or
run smooth in the dust. And we shaded her face with bushes."
"She's not well," said their experienced elder. "The poor little
thing may have some catching disease! It's a pretty face. I wonder
whose child she is? You oughtn't to set up your judgment and carry a
little child off with you from her friends. I hardly know what we'll
do about it."
"Oh, but they wern't her friends, Ma Padgett," asserted aunt Corinne
solemnly. "She isn't the pig-headed man's little girl. Nor any of
them ain't her folks. Bobaday thinks they stole her away."
"If she'd only wake up and talk," said Robert, "maybe she could tell
us where she lives. But she was afraid of the show people."
"I should think that was likely," said Grandma Padgett.
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