"So let your mind rest easy." She meant to see
that child if it took till evening to do so.
"Maybe I can go to sleep again and dream I'm dead," said Jim, in
growing despair.
"If you kin, and me around, you can beat brother John all to cream,"
she responded, smoothing out the mended overalls and laying them down
on a stool. "Now you kin give me your shirt."
Jim galvanically gathered the blankets in a tightened noose about his
neck.
"Hold on!" he said. "Hold on! This shirt is a bran'-new article, and
you'd spoil it if you come within twenty-five yards of it with a
needle."
"Where's your old one?" she demanded, atilt for something more to
repair. Her gaze searched the bunks swiftly, and Jim was sure she was
looking for the little man behind him. "Where's your old one went?"
she repeated.
"I turned it over on a friend of mine," drawled Jim, who meant he had
deftly reversed it on himself. "It's a poor shirt that won't work both
ways."
"Ain't there nuthin' more I kin mend?" she asked.
"Not unless it's somethin' of Doc's down to your lovely little home."
"Oh, I ain't agoin' to go, if that's what you're drivin' at," she
answered, as she swiftly assembled the soiled utensils of the cuisine.
"I'll tidy up this here pig-pen if it takes a week, and you kin hop up
and come down easy.
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