(She takes the lamp from him, moves it before the child’s face.) KELLER: What, Katie? She’s well, she needs only time to. (She makes a pass with her hand in the crib, at the baby’s eyes.) KATE screams again, her look intent on the baby and terrible. KELLER in the yard hears it, and runs with the lamp back to the house. (But she stares at the baby, and her next call is directly at her ears.) (She snaps her fingers at the baby’s eyes twice, and her hand falters after a moment she calls out, loudly.) (But she breaks off, puzzled, moves her finger before the baby’s eyes.) Men, men and their battle scars, we women will have to. We’ll have your father run an editorial in his paper, the wonders of modern medicine, they don’t know what they’re curing even when they cure it. Call it acute congestion, indeed, I don’t see what’s so cute about a congestion, just because it’s yours. Don’t you cry now, you’ve been trouble enough. KATE meanwhile is bent lovingly over the crib, which emits a bleat her finger is playful with the baby’s face.) They go down the porch steps, and across the yard, where the DOCTOR goes off left KELLER stands with the lamp aloft. (He beams a good night at the baby and KATE, and KELLER leads him downstairs with a lamp. KELLER: I’ll see you to your buggy, Doctor.ĭOCTOR: I’ve never seen a baby, more vitality, that’s the truth. Call it acute congestion of the stomach and brain. Main thing is the fever’s gone, these things come and go in infants, never know why.
KELLER : Put up stronger fencing, ha?ĭOCTOR: Just let her get well, she knows how to do it better than we do. KATE: And isn’t there anything we should do?
KATE: Doctor, don’t be merely considerate, will my girl be all right?ĭOCTOR: Oh, by morning she’ll be knocking down Captain Keller’s fences again. KELLER : I’ve brought up two of them, but this is my wife’s first, she isn’t battle-scarred yet. She’ll outlive us all.ĭOCTOR : Yes, especially if some of you Kellers don’t get a night’s sleep. KELLER: Nonsense, the child’s a Keller, she had the constitution of a goat. I can tell you now, I thought she wouldn’t.
(The DOCTOR leaves them together over the crib, packs his bag.)ĭOCTOR: You’re a pair of lucky parents. One is a young gentlewoman with a sweet girlish face, KATE KELLER the second is an elderly DOCTOR, stethoscope at neck, thermometer in fingers the third is a hearty gentleman in his forties with chin whiskers, CAPTAIN ARTHUR KELLER. They have been through a long vigil, and it shows in their tired bearing and disarranged clothing. Inside, three adults in the bedroom are grouped around a crib, in lamplight.