"I don't know how I come to do that."

"Neither do I, Nan; I don't know how you can do anythin' but hate me.
But you ain't goin' to have no new reason for doin' it. I'm goin' to be
different ev'ry way from what I was."

"I hope so," said Mrs. Kimper, releasing herself from her husband's
arms and taking up the cards again. "I was just tellin' my fortune by
the keerds, havin' nothin' else to do, an' they showed a new man an'
some money,--though not much."

"They showed right both times, though keerds ain't been friends to this
family, confound 'em, when I've fooled with 'em at the saloon. Where's
the baby, though, that I ain't ever seen?"

"There," said the woman, pointing to a corner of the room. Sam looked,
and saw on the floor a bundle of dingy clothes from one end of which
protruded a head of which the face, eyes, and hair were of the same
tint as the clothing. The little object was regarding the new arrival
in a listless way, and she howled and averted her head as her father
stooped to pick her up.

"She's afraid you're goin' to hit her, like most ev'ry one does when
they go nigh her," said the mother. "If I'd knowed you was comin'
to-day, I'd have washed her, I guess."

"I'll do it myself now," said the father, "I've got the time."

"Why, you ain't ever done such a thing in your life, Sam!" said Mrs.
Kimper, with a feeble giggle.