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 didn't know, but she must do something.