"To think of her a-followin' him!" said Mis' Doty, "'n' her never sot off nowhars afore. The purty little critter! Lord! Tom, she's a-gwine ter be a sight when she's grown--with them eyes and har! An' ter think of her a-slippin' off from Mornin an' makin' up her little mind to follow ye. I've never had a young 'un to try it that early in all I've raised." "Lordy!" said Mr. Doty, "she's as sot on Tom 's he's on her, 'n' ef ever a man wus a doggoned fool about a young 'un, he is about that'n; 'n' fur bein' a doggoned fool"--triumphantly--"when he sets out ter be, I'll back Tom agin any man in Hamlin." Tom said but little. He made no more jokes. He kept the child with him through the rest of the day, holding her upon his knee or carrying her out upon the porch. When at supper-time he carried her back to the room, she was asleep and he laid her in her cradle himself. He moved about very quietly afterwards and ate his supper alone with frequent glances at the sleeper. "Don't take her away," he said to Mornin when she came in; "leave her here." "'N' hev her a-wakin' 'n' disturbin' uv ye, Mars' Tom!" she responded. "Leave her here," he said, laying his hand on the head of the cradle. "She'll not disturb me. We shall get along finely together." She was left, Mornin taking her departure with manifest disbelief in the practicability of the plan. And then, having drawn the cradle to his bedside, Tom put out the light and retired himself. But he did not sleep for some time; having flung his mighty body upon the couch, he lay with his arms thrown above his head gazing at the darkness and listening to the soft breathing at his side. He was thinking over the one event of the day. What might have seemed a slight thing to many men had struck deep into his great heart. "My God!" he said, a touch of reverential tone in his whisper, "to think of her following me!" And he stretched out his hand in the darkness and laid it upon the side of the cradle lightly, and afterwards fell asleep. CHAPTER IX