Just this morning Mother told me this fascinating story. Before she started school, she’d tagged along behind her father to the local blacksmith shop to have a bit of work done. The blacksmith, Dud Baker, was fairly new to the community and newly-married. His young wife was a widow. She’d brought the men a cup of coffee. As they were drinking and visiting over coffee, his mama came bursting out of the neighbor’s house where she’d obviously been getting acquainted and gossiping with the lady next door. The screen door banged behind her. She rushed past her son, confronting her new daughter-in-law. “Where’s your baby? Miz Parker said when you was married before you had a baby! I wanna see yore baby!” She obviously felt her son had been hornswoggled and wasn’t having it!
Katie Baker put her hands on her hips, ripping off her apron. “You want to see my baby. Come on. I’ll show you my baby!” She led her across the road to the cemetery behind the Methodist Church, pointed to a tiny grave, and said, “Here’s my baby, you old bat!”