"A girl, he repeated. "A girl," in astonishment, hearing the galloping hooves, <thinking> seeing for an astonished moment
<of> the proud galloping figure beneath a brandished sabre and a shot torn rushing flag; thinking of the other
for the first time as being perhaps an old man like himself, after all.
[margin: 'Yes, sir,' he thot in a kind of infantile astonishment: 'be dawg if I aint a great grandpaw now for sho.']
He entered the house. He moved
clumsily, as tho he no longer lived there, as tho the infant which had just <cried> drawn breath and
cried had dispossessed him, be it his own blood too tho it might. But even above the pallet he
could see little save the blur of his granddaughter's exhausted face in a frame of hair, yet even then it
took the negress' voice to warn him.

"You [illegible] gawn tell him efn you going to. Hit's daylight already."

<"I reckon I had," he said.> "I reckon I had," he said. It was daylight; light had come while he stood above the pallet; soon
the swift sun of Miss. latitudes. It seemed to lie just beyond the swamp across the slough like the
yolk of an egg about to break and spurt where he descended <the crazy steps> into the weeds and passed the
end of the porch where the scythe still leaned which he had borrowed 3 months ago to cut them
away. 'You might say that he [was represented?] in a way, anyhow,' he thot, going on. Almost at once he
heard the horse. He stepped out of the path to let the old stallion pass, his face lifted. <bright, weary.>