`` It 's my opinion the kid wo n't live long . It 's sickly . Min never had no gimp and I guess it hai n't either . Likely it wo n't trouble any one long and good riddance , sez I. '' Rilla drew the blanket down a little farther . `` Why , the baby is n't dressed ! '' she exclaimed , in a shocked tone . `` Who was to dress him I 'd like to know , '' demanded Mrs. Conover truculently . `` I had n't time -- took me all the time there was looking after Min . ` Sides , as I told yez , I do n't know nithing about kids . Old Mrs. Billy Crawford , she was here when it was born and she washed it and rolled it up in that flannel , and Jen she 's tended it a bit since . The critter is warm enough . This weather would melt a brass monkey . '' Rilla was silent , looking down at the crying baby . She had never encountered any of the tragedies of life before and this one smote her to the core of her heart . The thought of the poor mother going down into the valley of the shadow alone , fretting about her baby , with no one near but this abominable old woman , hurt her terribly . If she had only come a little sooner ! Yet what could she have done -- what could she do now ? She did n't know , but she must do something . She hated babies -- but she simply could not go away and leave that poor little creature with Mrs. Conover -- who was applying herself again to her black bottle and would probably be helplessly drunk before anybody came . `` I ca n't stay , '' thought Rilla .
`` Mr. XXXXX said I must be home by supper-time because he wanted the pony this evening himself .
Conover Crawford Jen Min Mrs. Rilla Sides gimp woman yez