The Way of the Wind

by, singing to it, crooning a lullaby, a memory of her own baby days when

, baby

tars are

ars are the l

is the sh

ee

a

ee

up at the dark gypsy face above it in search

id his eyes upon her

tion. It dashed a near-by shrub, a ragged rosetree that Seth had plante

on, so that his little body curled warmly about her and his face w

lullaby, crooning it very sof

, baby

tars are

ars are the l

is the sh

ee

a

ee

artled eyes stared at the window against which tapped the attenuated fin

talking cooing baby talk to him. She prepared his

to him spoonful by spoonful, a

to sleep, singing, patting him on the back cooingly when

elia's child, that Celia whose hatred it had felt from the first, it took pleasure in pun

t round human-like head looked in and the child, op

natched the tumblew

Cyclona, getting up once more and walking about w

, baby

tars are

ars are the l

is the sh

ee

a

ee

d grew

t burst the door o

bed, faced the fury of the wind

n't you

st it, taking the baby up and again walking it

yin' itself,"

oo of the lullaby to entice the

Failing of its effort to tear off the roof of the dugout, it sto

th a fury not to be

e crying child in every possible position, across her knee face down, sitting on

ver quit sobbing. The sense of her helplessness joi

d since early morning, when Seth, compelled to att

re the long fingers of the ragged rosebush, to

le baby's mother has gone away? Don't you know the little ba

this way. Occupied only with Celia's departure, i

ers of the twigs ce

d remorseful penitential sobs, and died away

ld involuntarily closed. Cyclona pressed his little body close to her, his

the words coming slo

stars are

ars ... are ... t

... the ... sh

ee

by

ep

nodded, still rocking

eth pushed open the

chair and came t

r head and looked

. "Be very quiet ...