OCR Text |
Show Page 158 to rocking with one foot and resumed her sewing. At last little Sarah quieted and fell asleep. Twig and I had walked home with Anne and Cisly after church that morning, I to help Anne sew baby clothes, Twig to help Cisly chop wood. In truth, I thought Twig had really gone to see the babies, not to work, for he had taken quite a fancy to them and visited as often as I. Now Anne and I sat together in companiable silence, our needles threading swift seams through the cloth, the only sounds those of Francis at play, the crackle of the fire, the distant thwack of Cisly's ax. We stirred only once, when Anne arose to put Francis down for his nap. "Ooooh, my fingers are cramped," groaned Anne some time later. "How I wish I had your skill with the needle, then perhaps it would not pain me so to make my stitches." "I would feel the same as you, no doubt," I answered, "had I not had Aunt Mary to teach me." "Aye, you were fortunate. No one in my family can stitch a straight seam no matter how many years she sews. "Sarah is certainly having a good nap," she continued. "She has slept ages longer than Francis. But I better get that mischief-maker up now." Rising, Anne went to the bed where Francis lay napping and coaxed him awake. As soon as he was scooting about the floor again, Anne went to the cradle to |