, it were twenty-t'ree year ago las' September----"

"The twenty-ninth," Hertha interrupted.

"De twenty-nine. You' pappy, Ellen an' me, we gwine ter de church fer a
celebration. We was spectin' ter git home early in de ebenin', but it
done pour so we wait round till it were night. Den we see de rain
weren't gwine ter stop, not fer t'ree 'fraid-cats, so we start off. My,
how de trees shake in de roarin' wind. Ellen, she hung close ter daddy,
an' once she give a lil' sniffle, like she want awful ter cry, but jes'
wouldn't."

"I know," Hertha broke in, "Ellen is like that now. If I'd been there,
I'd have cried and daddy would have taken me in his arms, wouldn't he?"

"I reckon so. You was a delicate chile an' dere weren't not'in' he
wouldn't do fer you. But you weren't dere, an' we jes' push on till de
house were in sight. We went in by de kitchen do' an' fer a space stan'
by de fire, our coats drippin' pails o' water on de flo'. Den, when we
was feelin' mo' like libin', I leabes de odder two an' goes inter de
bedroom."

Hertha slipped up close.

"Dere was a candle burnin' on de dresser by de bed. I was all in a
wonder! I neber lef' a light burnin' in my house when I gwine out, no,
sir; I don' wan ter waste no candle grease. But dere was a lil' yeller
flame shinin' straight up fer me ter see. I done look hard, an' rub my
eyes, an' den I look down ter where it drop its light on my bed."

Mammy made a dramatic stop, and Hertha, ready with her part, gave the
knee against which she leaned an impatient shake.

"On de bed," Mammy went on, prolonging every word, "wid its head on my
pillow, was a new-born chile. It were wrop in a sof white shawl, its
tiny face turned ter de light. I bent ober ter look. It were fast
asleep.

"I don' know how long I stayed watchin', but I heard daddy call, an'
by-'n-by he come inter de room. He gib a cry an' dat wake de baby, an'
it cry too. In course, dat bring Ellen, an' when she see de chile on de
bed she jes' clap her hands an' call, 'It done come! My baby sister done
come!'

"She were dat cute; wen' right up an' loosen de shawl an' croon an'
croon till it stop its cryin'. Me an' my ole man jes' look; we couldn't
do a t'ing, not at fust.

"Well, by-'n-by we send Ellen away ter de kitchen ter fetch some
t'ings--she don' want ter leab dat baby, not fer an instant--an' we look
at one anudder an' can't say nuthin'. Den I picks up de mite, taks off
de shawl, an' foun' one lil' garment