She was just beginning to walk along a little white road with tall black trees on either side,a little road that led to nowhere,and where nobody walked at all,when a hand gripped her shoulder,shook her,slapped her ear.
"Oh,oh,don't stop me,"cried the Child-Who-Was-Tired."Let me go.""Get up,you good-for-nothing brat,"said a voice;"get up and light the oven or I'll shake every bone out of your body."With an immense effort she opened her eyes,and saw the Frau standing by,the baby bundled under one arm.The three other children who shared the same bed with the Child-Who-Was-Tired,accustomed to brawls,slept on peacefully.In a corner of the room the Man was fastening his braces.
"What do you mean by sleeping like this the whole night through--like a sack of potatoes?You've let the baby wet his bed twice."She did not answer,but tied her petticoat string,and buttoned on her plaid frock with cold,shaking fingers.
"There,that's enough.Take the baby into the kitchen with you,and heat that cold coffee on the spirit lamp for the master,and give him the loaf of black bread out of the table drawer.Don't guzzle it yourself or I'll know."The Frau staggered across the room,flung herself on to her bed,drawing the pink bolster round her shoulders.
It was almost dark in the kitchen.She laid the baby on the wooden settle,covering him with a shawl,then poured the coffee from the earthenware jug into the saucepan,and set it on the spirit lamp to boil.
"I'm sleepy,"nodded the Child-Who-Was-Tired,kneeling on the floor and splitting the damp pine logs into little chips."That's why I'm not awake."The oven took a long time to light.Perhaps it was cold,like herself,and sleepy.Perhaps it had been dreaming of a little white road with black trees on either side,a little road that led to nowhere.
Then the door was pulled violently open and the Man strode in.
"Here,what are you doing,sitting on the floor?"he shouted."Give me my coffee.I've got to be off.Ugh!You haven't even washed over the table."She sprang to her feet,poured his coffee into an enamel cup,and gave him bread and a knife,then,taking a wash rag from the sink,smeared over the black linoleumed table.
"Swine of a day--swine's life,"mumbled the Man,sitting by the table and staring out of the window at the bruised sky,which seemed to bulge heavily over the dull land.He stuffed his mouth with bread and then swilled it down with the coffee.
The Child drew a pail of water,turned up her sleeves,frowning the while at her arms,as if to scold them for being so thin,so much like little stunted twigs,and began to mop over the floor.
"Stop sousing about the water while I'm here,"grumbled the Man."Stop the baby snivelling;it's been going on like that all night."The Child gathered the baby into her lap and sat rocking him.
"Ts--ts--ts,"she said."He's cutting his eye teeth,that's what makes him cry so.AND dribble--I never seen a baby dribble like this one."She wiped his mouth and nose with a corner of her skirt."Some babies get their teeth without you knowing it,"she went on,"and some take on this way all the time.I once heard of a baby that died,and they found all it's teeth in its stomach."The Man got up,unhooked his cloak from the back of the door,and flung it round him.
"There's another coming,"said he.
"What--a tooth!"exclaimed the Child,startled for the first time that morning out of her dreadful heaviness,and thrusting her finger into the baby's mouth.
"No,"he said grimly,"another baby.Now,get on with your work;it's time the others got up for school."She stood a moment quite silently,hearing his heavy steps on the stone passage,then the gravel walk,and finally the slam of the front gate.
"Another baby!Hasn't she finished having them YET?"thought the Child.
"Two babies getting eye teeth--two babies to get up for in the night--two babies to carry about and wash their little piggy clothes!"She looked with horror at the one in her arms,who,seeming to understand the contemptuous loathing of her tired glance,doubled his fists,stiffened his body,and began violently screaming.
"Ts--ts--ts."She laid him on the settle and went back to her floor-washing.He never ceased crying for a moment,but she got quite used to it and kept time with her broom.Oh,how tired she was!Oh,the heavy broom handle and the burning spot just at the back of her neck that ached so,and a funny little fluttering feeling just at the back of her waistband,as though something were going to break.
The clock struck six.She set the pan of milk in the oven,and went into the next room to wake and dress the three children.Anton and Hans lay together in attitudes of mutual amity which certainly never existed out of their sleeping hours.Lena was curled up,her knees under her chin,only a straight,standing-up pigtail of hair showing above the bolster.
"Get up,"cried the Child,speaking in a voice of immense authority,pulling off the bedclothes and giving the boys sundry pokes and digs.
"I've been calling you this last half-hour.It's late,and I'll tell on you if you don't get dressed this minute."Anton awoke sufficiently to turn over and kick Hans on a tender part,whereupon Hans pulled Lena's pigtail until she shrieked for her mother.
