We think a great deal of you, Jane."
"Yes, indeed, Mammy Jane," assented Mrs. Carteret, with sincere
affection, glancing with moist eyes from the child in her husband's arms
to the old nurse, whose dark face was glowing with happiness at these
expressions of appreciation, "you shall never want so long as we have
anything. We would share our last crust with you."
"Thank y', Mis' 'Livy," said Jane with reciprocal emotion, "I knows who
my frien's is, an' I ain' gwine ter let nothin' worry me. But fer de
Lawd's sake, Mars Philip, gimme dat chile, an' lemme pat 'im on de back,
er he'll choke hisse'f ter death!"
The old nurse had been the first to observe that little Dodie, for some
reason, was gasping for breath. Catching the child from the major's
arms, she patted it on the back, and shook it gently. After a moment of
this treatment, the child ceased to gasp, but still breathed heavily,
with a strange, whistling noise.
"Oh, my child!" exclaimed the mother, in great alarm, taking the baby in
her own arms, "what can be the matter with him, Mammy Jane?"
"Fer de Lawd's sake, ma'am, I don' know, 'less he's swallered
somethin'; an' he ain' had nothin' in his han's but de rattle Mis' Polly
give 'im."
Mrs. Carteret caught up the ivory rattle, which hung suspended by a
ribbon from the baby's neck.
"He has swallowed the little piece off the end of the handle," she
cried, turning pale with fear, "and it has lodged in his throat.
Telephone Dr.
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