Junior sidled up to his mother.
"Ain't that tough?" he whispered.
She bit her lip and silently nodded.
"Look at her feet, will you?" he breathed.
She looked at him instead, then suddenly her eyes filled with a mist like
that clouding his.
"_Think they'll ever walk?_" he questioned.
"I don't know," she said softly, "but it looks as if God has given us the
chance to make them if it's possible."
"Well say what's my share?" he said.
"Just anything you see that you think will help."
"If I be more careful not to dirty so many clothes, will it help?" he
asked.
"It would leave me that much more time and strength to give to her," she
said.
"Will all I can save you in any way be helping her that much?" he
persisted.
"Surely!" she said. "Soon as he's out of sight, I'm going to begin on her.
But don't let them hear!"
Junior nodded. He sat down on the bank watching as if fascinated the feet
trying to splash in the water. Mickey could feel the effort of the small
body.
"You take her now," he said to Peter.
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