while aunt
Emily interviewed Mrs. Yorke and the widow. "This is such a care for
you."

"Do with 'em?" repeated the veteran, apparently quite undismayed by the
prospect before him. "Waal, I reckon we've got to be eyes an' backs an'
lungs to 'em, for they've run mighty short of them conveniences. Let
alone Theodore, an' that feller over there,"--nodding towards the
kitchen-door, within which Matilda Jane was to be seen mixing biscuit,
with the boy beside her, his round, fat arms up to the elbows in the
dough, with which he was bedaubing himself and every thing about him,
unrestrained by his subdued aunt,--"let alone that feller over there,
there ain't the makin' of a hull one among 'em. I guess they've got to
be took care of; an', if the Almighty hadn't a meant us to do it, he
wouldn't a sent 'em here. Them's my opinions, an' me an' Mis' Yorke we
ain't the ones to throw back his orderin's an' purposin's in his face.
They do seem a bit like a hospital full, though, don't they?" he added,
unconsciously expressing Mr. Winston's view of the situation. "Me an'
Mis' Yorke, we foun' out the truth of the Scriptur' sayin', how sharper
than an achin' tooth it is to have a thankless child, an' Tom,--I don't
min' sayin' it to you,--he _was_ thankless enough, though he's dead an'
gone, an' his old father ain't the one to cast stones at him now. But
me an' Mis' Yorke, we don't want to make out the truth of that other
Scriptur', that the sins of the father shall be visited on the
children,--leastways, not Tom's children; they ain't to blame for his
short-comin's; an', meanin' no disrespec' nor onbelief, _that_ Scriptur'
do always seem to me a little hard on the children. Maybe--who
knows--them youngsters will ha' brought a blessin' with 'em; an' my
opinions is they has, when I see Mis' Yorke a cuddlin' an' croonin'
over that little hunchback. Now she's awful contented an' easy-minded
like to have somethin' to pet, for she's allers a hankerin' after
babies an' them sort of critters. We was kinder took aback, for sartain,
when Maria,--her name's Maria, Tom's widder's is,--when she come right
in with the hull crowd followin', an' John Waters' wagon, what they
come from the station in, standin' at the gate, an' all the luggage in
it; an' them gentlemen was here gettin' bait an' askin' about the
fishin', an' Matildy Jane she kinder flew out, an' one of the little
ones was hollerin',--an' it was all kinder Bedlamy. But it's all come
right no