"Pelton Annawillee, halo mamook Jenny keely, make her not mournful, pelton, oh, fool!" "I love papoosh," said Annawillee. She burst into tears. "Take heem, Jenny, take yo' papoosh. Mine mimaloose, is dead." Jenny took the baby to her bosom, and sat down desolately on the edge of Annie's bed. Her body shivered at the foulness of things, even as her soul shivered for fear about George. An hour ago she had been happy, happy, happy! Now---- "Oh, God," she prayed. But she could not weep. "Jenny, you have dlink, you tak' one dlink, tenas toketie?" said Annie. What else was there but "dlink" for misery, for the loss of a home, for the loss of her man? But Jenny shook her head. "I got one," said Annie. For she remembered she had not finished the bottle before she went to sleep by the fire. She hunted for the bottle and found it. It was empty! "Some dam' tief stealum," screamed Annie. Who could it have been but Annawillee? "I never takum," yelled Annawillee when the old hag got her by the hair and tugged at it. "You old beast, leggo me. I never tak' um." Jenny cried out to Annie. It was awful to see this in her agony of grief. "I get mo'," said Annie. "I got dolla. I find Chihuahua, he buy bottle whisky!" She went out. Annawillee wrung her hair into a horrid coil and knotted it clumsily at the back of her neck. She cried about her dead papoosh. The tears ran down her dirty face. Outside the hum and murmur of the crowd still endured. Every now and again there was a crash, as some of the great Mill fell in. Piles of lumber caught: they roared to the skies in wavering columns. The crowd laughed and moaned and roared and was silent, as the sea beach is silent between great breakers. And George was on the river hunting Pete! Jenny clutched her baby to her bosom. Annawillee went on crying. Then the door opened and Annie came back. "I send Chihuahua. He get dlink. Dlink velly good for you, Jenny. By-by Shautch Quin come back and say I good to you, and he be good to poor old Annie, who get you for heem, tenas!" But Jenny only heard her words as part of the sounds of the night. If George did not come back! She moaned dreadfully, and shivered in spite of the heat of the great fire, which made itself felt even in the shack. "Tchorch, Tchorch!" She felt him in her arms, as she had held to him when he bore her through the fire. He was a man, a real man. She saw poor Ned, who wasn't one. She saw Mary. But Mary had no child. Poor Mary and poor Annawillee! The door opened and Chihuahua came in with a bottle. "You dam' thief, you open um and dlink," said Annie furiously. Chihuahua laughed. "Hey, hermosa Annie, why you tink I no do dat?" He was half drunk already. He saw Jenny. "Hallo, Jenny, peretty Jenny! Peretty womans make mischief. All for dis Pete burn the Moola, and we all out of jhob!"