Her eyes spread wide with infinite compassion as she contemplated the grave-shadowed child.
"Did the student tell ye that the Bible were a-sayin' that?" she asked peremptorily.
"Yes; and my father has often preached upon it. I know that it is true," insisted Teola. "A child must be cleansed of its original sin in the church.... You see? You see, Tess?"
"I don't see--I don't know, nuther. But what the student says air right. If the little kid ain't to see God's face 'less he air slapped on the head with water in the church, then the brat air got to be tooked there."
"But--but, Tess, is it possible?"
Again the squatter bent her head to gather the words.
"He air a-goin' to die," she replied with conviction, "and he has to be hit with the water, if he air a-goin' to die, don't he? Air that what ye means?"
Teola, dropping her face upon the babe, bowed her head in assent, and wept silently, until the cough that had fastened itself upon the slender chest since the coming of the child, dried the tears.
Tess remained quiet until the paroxysm had passed.
"Air yer pappy a good sprinkler of brats?"
Teola nodded.
"Air it likely he would sprinkle this 'un'?"
"I don't think my father would turn away a dying babe that needed cleansing of its sin by the Holy Ghost."
"The Huly what? The student were a-talkin' 'bout him once."
"The Holy Ghost," explained Teola. "He lives in the church, and when a baby is baptized He comes and stands by the font, and when the water falls upon it, He takes away all the sin that it is born with."
Tess grunted disbelievingly.
"Can ye sees him?"
"No; He is a spirit."
"Ye mean that he air like the headless man from Haytes, and the squaw with her burnt brat?"
They were both down beside the babe again, Tess eying the mother eagerly.
"Oh, no, Tess! Those are but superstitions. This is the truth. No matter how little the child is, he won't go to a holy place if he isn't baptized."
"Air the Huly Ghost livin' only in the church?"
"Yes, He doesn't stay anywhere else."
"Who says it air true?"
"God."
"Your brother's God?"
"Yes."
"Then, of course, it air so. Why didn't ye say so before? Could the brat be sprinkled this comin' Sunday?"