Eddie untwisted and read
after he had wiped the dishes that Pheeny washed.

Ellaphine spent no money on such vanities as novels or short stories,
but she read the edifying romances in the Sunday-school paper and an
occasional book from the Sunday-school library, mainly about children
whose angelic qualities gave her a picture of child life that would have
contrasted strongly with what their children would have been if they had
had any.

Their great source of literature, however, was the Bible. Soon after
their factory passed out of their control and their evenings ceased to
be devoted to riddles in finance, they had resolved to read the Bible
through, "from kiver to kiver." And Eddie and Ellaphine found that a
chapter read aloud before going to bed was an excellent sedative.

They had not invaded Genesis quite three weeks before the evening when
it came Eddie's turn to read aloud the astonishing romance of Abram, who
became Abraham, and of Sarai, who became Sarah. It was very exciting
when the child was promised to Sarah, though she was "well stricken in
age." Eddie smiled as he read, "Sarah laughed within herself." But
Pheeny blushed.

Ellaphine was far from the ninety years of Sarah, but she felt that the
promise of a son was no laughing matter. These poignant hopes and awful
denials and perilous adventures are not permitted to be written about or
printed for respectable eyes. If they are discussed it must be with
laughing ribaldry.

Even in their solitude Eddie and Pheeny used modest paraphrases and
breathed hard and looked askance, and made sure that no one overheard.
They whispered as parents do when their children are abed up-stairs.

The neighbors gave them hardly thought enough to imagine the lofty
trepidation of these thrilling hours. The neighbors never knew of the
merciless joke Fate played on them when, in their ignorance, they
believed the Lord had sent them a sign. They dwelt in a fools' paradise
for a long time, hoarding their glorious expectations.

At length Pheeny grew brazen enough to consult the old and peevish
Doctor Noxon; and he laughed her hopes away and informed her that she
need never trouble herself to hope again.

That was a smashing blow; and they cowered together under the shadow of
this great denial, each telling the other that it did not matter, since
children were a nuisance and a danger anyway.

They pretended to take solace in two current village tragedies--the
death of the