The elder, who had spoken in that small, anxious voice, had a pale little face with pointed chin; her hair, the color of over-ripe corn, hung fluffy on her thin shoulders, her flower-like eyes, with something motherly in them already, were the same hue as her pale-blue, almost clean, overall.

She had her smaller, chubbier sister by the hand, and, having delivered her message, stood still, gazing up at Tod, as one might at God.

Tod dropped his hoe.
"Biddy come with me; Susie go and tell Mrs.Freeland, or Miss Sheila." He took the frail little hand of the elder Tryst and ran.

They ran at the child's pace, the one so very massive, the other such a whiff of flesh and blood.
"Did you come at once, Biddy ?" "Yes, sir." "Where was he taken ?" "In the kitchen--just as I was cookin' breakfast." "Ah! Is it a bad one ?" "Yes, sir, awful bad--he's all foamy." "What did you do for it ?" "Susie and me turned him over, and Billy's seein' he don't get his tongue down his throat--like what you told us, and we ran to you.

Susie was frightened, he hollered so." Past the three cottages, whence a woman at a window stared in amaze to see that queer couple running, past the pond where the ducks, whiter than ever in the brightening sunlight, dived and circled carelessly, into the Tryst kitchen.