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Sonny, A Christmas Guest.
by Ruth McEnery Stuart.
SONNY
A CHRISTMAS GUEST
[Ill.u.s.tration: 'B']
Boy, you say, doctor? An' she don't know it yet? Then what 're you tellin' _me_ for? No, sir--take it away. I don't want to lay my eyes on it till she's saw it--not if I _am_ its father. She's its _mother_, I reckon!
Better lay it down somew'eres an' go to _her_--not there on the rockin'-cheer, for somebody to set on--'n' not on the trunk, please.
That ain't none o' yo' ord'nary new-born bundles, to be dumped on a box that'll maybe be opened sudden d'rec'ly for somethin' needed, an' be dropped ag'in' the wall-paper behind it.
_It's hers_, whether she knows it or not. _Don't_, for _gracious_ sakes, lay 'im on the _table! Anybody_ knows _that's_ bad luck.
You think it might bother her on the bed? She's that bad? An' they ain't no fire kindled in the settin'-room, to lay it in there.
_S-i-r?_ Well, yas, I--I reck'n I'll _haf_ to hold it, ef you say so--that is--of co'se--
_Wait_, doctor! _Don't_ let go of it _yet!_ Lordy! but I'm thess _sh.o.r.e_ to drop it! Lemme set down _first, doctor_, here by the fire an' git het th'ugh. Not yet! My ol' shin-bones stan' up thess like a pair o'
dog-irons. Lemme bridge 'em over first 'th somethin' soft. That'll do.
She patched that quilt herself. Hold on a minute, 'tel I git the aidges of it under my ol' boots, to keep it f'om saggin' down in the middle.
There, now! Merciful goodness, but I never! I'd rather trus' myself with a whole playin' fountain in blowed gla.s.s'n sech ez this.
Stoop down there, doctor, please, sir, an' shove the end o' this quilt a leetle further under my foot, won't you? Ef it was to let up sudden, I wouldn't have no more lap 'n what any other fool man's got.
'N' now--you go to _her_.
I'd feel a heap safeter ef this quilt was nailed to the flo' on each side o'my legs. They're trimblin' so I dunno what minute my feet'll let go their holt.
An' she don't know it yet! An' he layin' here, dressed up in all the little clo'es she sewed! She mus' be purty bad. I dunno, though; maybe that's gen'ally the way.
They're keepin' mighty still in that room. Blessed ef I don't begin to feel 'is warmth in my ol' knee-bones! An' he's a-breathin' thess ez reg'lar ez that clock, on'y quicker. Lordy! An' she don't know it yet!
An' he a boy! He taken that after the Joneses; we've all been boys in our male branch. When that name strikes, seem like it comes to stay.
Now for a girl--
Wonder if he ain't covered up mos' too close-t. Seem like he snuffles purty loud--for a beginner.
Doctor! _oh_, doctor! I say, _doctor!_
Strange he don't hear--'n' I don't like to holler no louder. Wonder ef she could be worse? Ef I could thess reach somethin' to knock with!
I daresn't lif' my foot, less'n the whole business'd fall through.
Oh, doc'! Here he comes now--_Doctor_, I say, don't you think maybe he's covered up too--
How's _she_, doctor? "Thess the same," you say? 'n' she don't know yet--about him? "In a couple o' hours," you say? Well, don't lemme keep you, doctor. But, tell me, don't you think maybe he's covered up a leetle too close-t?
That's better. An' now I've saw him befo' she did! An' I didn't want to, neither.
Poor leetle, teenchy, weenchy bit of a thing! Ef he ain't the _very_ littlest! Lordy, Lordy, Lor_dy!_ But I s'pose all thet's needed in a baby is a startin'-p'int big enough to hol' the fam'ly ch'racteristics.
I s'pose maybe he is, but the po' little thing mus' feel sort o'
scrouged with 'em, ef he's got 'em all--the Joneses' an' the Simses'.
Seem to me he favors her a little thess aroun' the mouth.
An' she don't know it yet!
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Seem to me _he_ favors her a little thess aroun' the mouth."]
Lord! But my legs ache like ez if they was bein' wrenched off. I've got 'em on sech a strain, somehow. An' he on'y a half hour ol', an' two hours mo' 'fo' I can budge! Lord, Lord! how _will_ I stand it!
_G.o.d bless 'im!_ Doc! He's a-sneezin'! Come quick! Sh.o.r.e ez I'm here, he snez twice-t!
Don't you reckon you better pile some mo' wood on the fire an'--
What's that you say? "Fetch 'im along"? An' has she ast for 'im? Bless the Lord! I say. But a couple of you 'll have to come help me loosen up 'fo' I can stir, doctor.
Here, you stan' on that side the quilt, whiles I stir my foot to the flo' where it won't slip--an' Dicey--where's that n.i.g.g.e.r Dicey? You Dicey, come on here, an' tromp on the other side o' this bedquilt till I h'ist yo' young marster up on to my shoulder.
No, you don't take 'im, neither. I'll tote 'im myself.
Now, go fetch a piller till I lay 'im on it. That's it. And now git me somethin' stiff to lay the piller on. There! That lapboa'd 'll do.
Why didn't I think about that befo'? It's a heap safeter 'n my ole knee-j'ints. Now, I've got 'im secure. _Wait_, doctor--hold on! I'm afeered you 'll haf to ca'y 'im in to her, after all. I'll cry ef I do it. I'm trimblin' like ez ef I had a'ager, thess a-startin' in with 'im--an seein' me give way might make her nervious. You take 'im to her, and lemme come in sort o' unconcerned terreckly, after she an' him've kind o' got acquainted. Dast you hold 'im that-a-way, doctor, 'thout no support to 'is spinal colume? I s'pose he _is_ too sof' to snap, but I wouldn't resk it. Reckon I can slip in the other do' where she won't see me, an' view the meetin'.
Yas; I 'm right here, honey! (The idea o' her a-callin' for me--an'
_him_ in 'er arms!) I 'm right here, honey--_mother!_ Don't min' me a-cryin'! I'm all broke up, somehow; but don't you fret. I 'm right here by yo' side on my knees, in pure thankfulness.
Bless His name, I say! You know he's a boy, don't yer? I been a holdin'
'im all day--'t least ever sence they dressed 'im, purty nigh a' hour ago. An' he's slep'--an' waked up--an' yawned--an' snez--an' wunk--an'
sniffed--'thout me sayin' a word. Opened an' shet his little fist, once-t, like ez ef he craved to shake hands, howdy! He cert'n'y does perform 'is functions wonderful.
Yas, doctor; I'm a-comin', right now.
Go to sleep now, honey, you an' him, an' I'll be right on the spot when needed. Lemme whisper to her thess a minute, doctor?
I thess want to tell you, honey, thet you never, even in yo' young days, looked ez purty to my eyes ez what you do right now. An' that boy is _yo' boy_, an' I ain't a-goin' to lay no mo' claim to 'im 'n to see thet you have yo' way with 'im--you hear? An' now good night, honey, an' go to sleep.
They wasn't nothin' lef for me to do but to come out here in this ol'
woodshed where n.o.body wouldn't see me ac' like a plumb baby.
An' now, seem like I _can't_ git over it! The idee o' me, fifty year ol', actin' like this!