As she laid the baby back on one arm she took a spoonful of the mixture prepared for its supper, and pushed it roughly into its mouth.

The baby swallowed it with a kind of starving eagerness, but with no sign of satisfaction on its sorrowful little face.

But Mother Hewitt was too impatient to get through with her work of feeding the child, and thrust in spoonful after spoonful until it choked, when she shook it angrily, calling it vile names.
The baby cried feebly at this, when she shook it again and slapped it with her heavy hand.

Then it grew still.

She put the spoon again to its lips, but it shut them tightly and turned its head away.
"Very well," said Mother Hewitt.