Cavendish performed the same
offices for the baby. Then there was breakfast, from which Mr.
Cavendish rose yawning to go to bed, where, before dropping off
to sleep, he played with the baby. This left Mrs. Cavendish in
full command of her floating dooryard. She smoked a reflective
pipe, watching the river between puffs, and occasionally lending
a hand at the sweeps. Later the family wash engaged her. It had
neither beginning nor end, but serialized itself from day to day.
Connie was already proficient at the tubs. It was a knack she
was in no danger of losing.
Keppel and Henry took turns at the sweeps, while the three
smaller children began to manifest a love for the water they had
not seemed to possess earlier in the day. They played along the
edge of the raft, always in imminent danger of falling in, always
being called back, or seized, just in time to prevent a
catastrophe. This ceaseless activity on their part earned them
much in the way of cuffings, chastisements which Mrs. Cavendish
administered with no great spirit.
"Drat you, why don't you go look at the pore gentleman instead of
posterin' a body 'most to death!" she demanded at length, and
they stole off on tiptoe to stare at Yancy. Presently Richard
ran to his mother's side.
"Come quick--he's mutterin' and mumblin' and moving his head!" he
cried. It w?s as the child said. Yancy had roused from his
heavy stupor. Words almost inaudible and quite inarticulate were
issuing from his lips and there was a restless movement of his
head on the pillow.
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