[the following is quoted, by permission, from mr. habberton's popular book, "other people's children," published by g.p. putnam's sons, new york.]
mrs. burton's birthday dawned brightly, and it is not surprising that, as it was her first natal anniversary since her marriage to a man who had no intention or ability to cease being a lover—it is not surprising that her ante-breakfast moments were too fully and happily occupied to allow her to even think of two little boys who had already impressed upon her their willingness and general ability to think for themselves. as for the young men themselves, they awoke with the lark, and with a heavy sense of responsibility also. the room of mrs. burton's chambermaid joined their own, and the occupant of that room having been charged by her mistress with the general care of the boys between dark and daylight, she had gradually lost that faculty for profound slumber which so notably distinguishes the domestic servant from all other human beings. she had grown accustomed to wake at the first sound in the boys' room, and on the morning of her mistress's birthday the first sound she heard was: "tod!"
no response could be heard; but a moment later the chambermaid heard:
"t—o—o—od!"
"ah—h—h—ow!" drawled a voice, not so sleepily but it could sound aggrieved.
"wake up, dear old toddie, budder—it's aunt alice's birthday now."
"needn't bweak my earzh open, if 'tis, whined toddie."
"i only holloed in one ear, tod," remonstrated budge "an' you ought to love dear aunt alice enough to have that hurt a little rather than not wake up."
a series of groans, snarls, whines, grunts, snorts, and remonstrances semi-articulate were heard, and at length some complicated wriggles and convulsive kicks were made manifest to the listening ear, and then budge said:
"that's right; now let's get up an' get ready. say; do you know that we didn't think anything about having some music. don't you remember how papa played the piano last mamma's birthday when she came down stairs, an' how happy it made her, an' we danced around?"
"aw wight," said toddie. "let's."
"tell you what," said budge, "let's both bang the piano, like mamma an' aunt alice does together sometimes."
"oh, yesh!" exclaimed toddie. "we can make some awful big bangsh before she can get down to tell us to don't."
then there was heard a scurrying of light feet as the boys picked up their various articles of clothing from the corners, chairs, bureau, table, etc., where they had been tossed the night before. the chambermaid hurried to their assistance, and both boys were soon dressed. a plate containing bananas, and another with the hard-earned grapes, were on the bureau, and the boys took them and tiptoed down the stair and into the drawing-room.
"gwacious!" said toddie, as he placed his plate on the sideboard, "maybe the gwapes an' buttonanoes has got sour. i guesh we'd better try 'em, like mamma does the milk on hot morningsh when the baddy milkman don't come time enough," and toddie suited the action to the word by plucking from a cluster the handsomest grape in sight. "i fink," said he, smacking his lips with the suspicious air of a professional wine-taster; "i fink they is gettin' sour." "let's see," said budge.
"no," said toddie, plucking another grape with one hand while with the other he endeavored to cover his gift. "ize bid enough to do it all myself. unless," he added, as a happy inspiration struck him, "you'll let me help see if your buttonanoes are sour."
"then you can only have one bite," said budge, "you must let me taste about six grapes, 'cause 'twould take that many to make one of your bites on a banana."
"aw wight," said toddie; and the boys proceeded to exchange duties, budge taking the precaution to hold the banana himself, so that his brother should not abstractedly sample a second time, and toddie doling out the grapes with careful count.
"they are a little sour," said budge, with a wry face. "perhaps some other bunch is better. i think we'd better try each one, don't you?"
"an' each one of the buttonanoes, too," suggested toddie. "that one wazh pretty good, but maybe some of the others isn't."
the proposition was accepted, and soon each banana had its length reduced by a fourth, and the grape-clusters displayed a fine development of wood. then budge seemed to realize that his present was not as sightly as it might be, for he carefully closed the skins at the ends, and turned the unbroken ends to the front as deftly as if he were a born retailer of fruit.
this done, he exclaimed: "oh! we want our cards on em, else how will she know who they came from?"
"we'll be here to tell her," said toddie.
"huh!" said budge; "that wouldn't make her half so happy. don't you know how when cousin florence gets presents of flowers, she's always happiest when she's lookin' at the card that comes with 'em?"
"aw right," said toddie, hurrying into the parlor,'and returning with the cards of a lady and gentleman, taken haphazard from his aunt's card-receiver.
"now, we must write 'happy birthday' on the backs of 'em," said budge, exploring his pockets, and extracting a stump of a lead-pencil. "now," continued budge, leaning over the card, and displaying all the facial contortions of the unpracticed writer, as he laboriously printed, in large letters, speaking, as he worked, a letter at a time:
"h—a—p—p—e b—u—r—f—d—a—happy birthday. now, you must hold the pencil for yours, or else it won't be so sweet—that's what mamma says."
toddie took the pencil in his pudgy hand, and budge guided the hand; and two juvenile heads touched each other, and swayed, and twisted, and bobbed in unison until the work was completed.
"now, i think she ought to come," said budge. (breakfast time was still more than an hour distant.) "why, the rising-bell hasn't rung yet! let's ring it!"
the boys fought for possession of the bell; but superior might conquered, and budge marched up and down the hall, ringing with the enthusiasm and duration peculiar to the amateur.
"bless me!" exclaimed mrs. burton, hastening to complete her toilet. "how time does fly—sometimes!"
mr. burton saw something in his wife's face that seemed to call for lover-like treatment; but it was not without a sense of injury that he exclaimed, immediately after, as he drew forth his watch:
"i declare! i would make an affidavit that we hadn't been awake half an hour. ah! i forgot to wind up my watch last night."
the boys hurried into the parlor.
"i hear 'em trampin' around!" exclaimed budge, in great excitement. "there!—the piano's shut! isn't that too mean! oh, i'll tell you—here's uncle harry's violin."
"then whatsh i goin' to play on?" asked toddie, dancing frantically about.
"wait a minute," said budge, dropping the violin, and hurrying to the floor above, from which he speedily returned with a comb. a bound volume of the portfolio lay upon the table, and opening this, badge tore the tissue paper from one of the etchings and wrapped the comb in it.
"there!" said he, "you fiddle an' i'll blow the comb. goodness! why don't they come down? oh, we forgot to put pennies under the plate, and we don't know how many years old to put 'em for."
"an' we ain't got no pennies," said toddie.
"i know," said budge, hurrying to a cabinet in a drawer of which his uncle kept the nucleus of a collection of american coinage. "this kind of pennies," budge continued, "isn't so pretty as our kind, but they're bigger, an' they'll look better on a table-cloth. now, how old do you think she is?"
"i dunno," said toddie, going into a reverie of hopeless conjecture. "she's about as big as you and me put togevver."
"well," said budge, "you're four an' i'm six, an' four an' six is ten—i guess ten'll be about the thing."
mrs. burton's plate was removed, and the pennies were deposited in a circle. there was some painful counting and recounting, and many disagreements, additions and subtractions. finally, the pennies were arranged in four rows, two of three each and two of two each, and budge counted the threes and toddie verified the twos; and budge was adding the four sums together, when footsteps were heard descending the stairs.
budge hastily dropped the surplus coppers upon the four rows, replaced the plate, and seized the comb as toddie placed the violin against his knee, as he had seen small, itinerant italians do. a second or two later, as the host and hostess entered the dining-room, there arose a sound which caused mrs. burton to clap her fingers to her ears, while her husband exclaimed:
'"scat!"
then both boys dropped their instruments, toddie finding the ways of his own feet seriously compromised by the strings of the violin, while both children turned happy faces toward their aunt, and shouted:
"happy burfday!"
mr. burton hurried to the rescue of his darling instrument while his wife gave each boy an appreciative kiss, and showed them a couple of grateful tears. then her eye was caught by the fruit on the sideboard, and she read the cards aloud:
"mrs. frank rommery—this is like her effusiveness. i've never met her but once, but i suppose her bananas must atone for her lack of manners. why, charley crewne! dear me! what memories some men have!"
a cloud came upon mr. burton's brow. charlie crewne had been one of his rivals for miss mayton's hand, and mrs. burton was looking a trifle thoughtful, and her husband was as unreasonable as newly-made husbands are sure to be, when mrs. burton exclaimed:
"some one has been picking the grapes off in the most shameful manner. boys!"
"ain't from no rommerys an' crewnes," said toddie. "theysh from me an' budge, an' we dzust tasted 'em to see if they'd got sour in the night."
"where did the cards come from?" asked mrs. burton.
"out of the basket in the parlor," said budge; "but the back is the nice part of 'em."
mrs. burton's thoughtful expression and her husband's frown disappeared together, as they seated themselves at the table. both boys wriggled rigorously until their aunt raised her plate, and then budge exclaimed:
"a penny for each year, you know."
"thirty-one!" exclaimed mrs. burton, after counting the heap. "how complimentary!"
"what doesh you do for little boys on your bifeday?" asked toddie, after breakfast was served. "mamma does lots of fings."
"yes," said budge, "she says she thinks people ought to get their own happy by makin' other people happy. an' mamma knows better than you, you know, 'cause she's been married longest."
although mrs. burton admitted the facts, the inference seemed scarcely natural, and she said so.
"well—a—a—a—a—anyhow," said toddie, "mamma always has parties on her bifeday, an' we hazh all the cake we want."
"you shall be happy to-day, then," said mrs. burton; "for a few friends will be in to see me this afternoon, and i am going to have a nice little lunch for them, and you shall lunch with us, if you will be very good until then, and keep yourselves clean and neat."
"aw wight," said toddie. "izhn't it most time now?"
"tod's all stomach," said budge, with some contempt. "say, aunt alice, i hope you won't forget to have some fruit-cake. that's the kind we like best."
"you'll come home very early, harry?" asked mrs. burton, ignoring her nephew's question.
"by noon, at furthest," said the gentleman. "i only want to see my morning letters, and fill any orders that may be in them."
"what are you coming so early for, uncle harry?" asked budge.
"to take aunt alice riding, old boy," said mr. burton.
"oh! just listen, tod! won't that be jolly? uncle harry's going to take us riding!"
"i said i was going to take your aunt alice, budge," said mr. burton.
"i heard you," said budge, "but that won't trouble us any. she always likes to talk to you better than she does to us. when are we going?"
mr. burton asked his wife, in german, whether the lawrence-burton assurance was not charmingly natural, and mrs. burton answered in the same tongue that it was, but was none the less deserving of rebuke, and that she felt it to be her duty to tone it down in her nephews. mr. burton wished her joy of the attempt, and asked a number of searching questions about success already attained, until mrs. burton was glad to see toddie come out of a brown study and hear him say:
"i fink that placesh where the river is bwoke off izh the nicest placesh."
"what does the child mean?" asked his aunt.
"don't you know where we went last year, an' you stopped us from seein' how far we could hang over, uncle harry?" said budge.
"oh—passaic falls!" exclaimed mr. burton.
"yes, that's it," said budge.
"old riverzh bwoke wight in two there," said toddie, "an' a piece of it's way up in the air, an' anuvver piece izh way down in big hole in the shtones. that'sh where i want to go widin'."
"listen, toddy," said mrs. burton. "we like to take you riding with us at most times, but to-day we prefer to go alone. you and budge will stay at home—we shan't be gone more than two hours."
"wantsh to go a-widin'!" exclaimed toddie.
"i know you do, dear, but you must wait until some other day," said the lady.
"but i wantsh to go," toddie explained.
"and i don't want you to, so you can't," said mrs. burton, in a tone which would reduce any reasonable person to hopelessness. but toddie, in spite of manifest astonishment, remarked:
"wantsh to go a-widin'."
"now the fight is on," murmured mr. burton to himself. then he arose hastily from the table, and said:
"i think i'll try to catch the earlier train, my dear, as i am coming back so soon."
mrs. burton arose to bid her husband good-by, and was kissed with more than usual tenderness, and then held at arm's length, while manly eyes looked into her own with an expression which she found untranslatable—for two hours at least. mrs. burton saw her husband fairly on his way, and then she returned to the dining-room, led toddie into the parlor, took him upon her lap, wound her arms tenderly about him, and said:
"now, toddie, dear, listen carefully to what aunt alice tells you. there are some reasons why you boys should not go with us to-day, and aunt alice means just what she says when she tells you you can't go with us. if you were to ask a hundred times it would not make the slightest bit of difference. you cannot go, and you must stop thinking about it."
toddie listened intelligently from beginning to end, and replied:
"but i wantsh to go."
"and you can't. that ends the matter."
"no, it don't," said toddie, "not a single bittle. i wantsh to go badder than ever."
"but you are not going."
"i wantsh to go so baddy," said toddy, beginning to cry.
"i suppose you do, and auntie is very sorry for you," said mr. burton, kindly; "but that does not alter the case. when grown people say 'no!' little boys must understand that they mean it."
"but what i wantsh izh to go a-widin' wif you," said toddie.
"and what i want is, that you shall stay at home; so you must," said mrs. burton. let us have no more talk about it now. shouldn't you like to go into the garden and pick some strawberries all for yourself?"
"no; i'd like to go widin'."
"toddie," said mrs. burton, "don't let me hear one more word about riding."
"well, i want to go."
"toddie, i will certainly have to punish you if you say any more on this subject, and that will make me very unhappy. you don't want to make auntie unhappy on her birthday, do you?"
"no; but i do want to go a-widin'."
"listen toddie," said mrs. burton, with an imperious stamp of her foot, and a sudden loss of her entire stock of patience. "if you say one more word about that trip, i will lock you up in the attic chamber, where you were day before yesterday, and budge shall not be with you."
toddie carried upstairs in his aunt's arms.
toddie suddenly found himself clasped tightly
in his aunt's arms, in which position he kicked,
pushed, screamed, and roared, during the passage of
two flights of stairs.
toddie gave vent to a perfect torrent of tears, and screamed:
"a—h—h—h! i don't want to be locked up, an' i do want to go a-widin'."
toddie suddenly found himself clasped tightly in his aunt's arms, in which position he kicked, pushed, screamed, and roared, during the passage of two flights of stairs. the moment of his final incarceration was marked by a piercing shriek which escaped from the attic window, causing the dog jerry to retire precipitately from a pleasing lounging-place on the well-curb, and making a passing farmer to rein up his horses, and maintain a listening position for the space of five minutes. meanwhile mrs. burton descended to the parlor, more flushed, untidy and angry than one had ever before seen her. she soon encountered the gaze of her nephew budge, and it was so full of solemnity that mrs. burton's anger departed in an instant.
"how would you like to be carried up-stairs screamin' an' put in a lonely room, just 'cause you wanted to go riding?" asked budge.
mrs. burton was unable to imagine herself in any such position, but replied:
"i should never be so foolish as to keep on wanting what i knew i could not have."
"why!" exclaimed budge. "are grown folks as smart, as all that?"
mrs. burton's conscience smote her not over-lightly, and she hastened to change the subject, and to devote herself assiduously to budge, as if to atone for some injury which she might have done to his brother. an occasional howl which fell from the attic-window increased her zeal for budge's comfort. under each one, however, her resolution grew weaker, and finally, with a hypocritical excuse to budge, mrs. burton hurried up to the door of toddie's prison, and said through the keyhole:
"toddie?"
"what?" said toddie.
"will you be a good-boy, now!"
"yesh, if you'll take me a-widin'."
mrs. burton turned abruptly away, and simply flew down the stairs. budge, who awaited her at the foot, instinctively stood aside, and exclaimed:
"my! i thought you was goin' to tumble! why didn't you bring him down?"
"bring who?" asked mrs. burton, indignantly.
"oh, i know what you went up-stairs for?" said budge. "your eyes told me all about it."
"you're certainly a rather inconvenient companion," said mrs. burton, averting her face, "and i want you to run home and ask how your mamma and baby-sister are. don't stay long; remember that lunch will be earlier than usual to-day."
away went budge, and mrs. burton devoted herself to thought and self-questioning. unquestioning obedience had been her own duty since she could remember, yet she was certain that her will was as strong as toddie's. if she had been always able to obey, certainly the unhappy little boy in the attic was equally capable—why should he not do it? perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had inherited a faculty in this direction, and perhaps—yes, certainly, toddie had done nothing of the sort. how was she to overcome the defect in his disposition; or was she to do it at all? was it not something with which no one temporarily having a child in charge should interfere? as she pondered, an occasional scream from toddie helped to unbend the severity of her principles, but suddenly her eye rested upon a picture of her husband, and she seemed to see in one of the eyes a quizzical expression. all her determination came back in an instant with heavy reinforcements, and budge came back a few minutes later. his bulletins from home, and his stores of experiences en route consumed but a few moments, and then mrs. burton proceeded to dress for her ride. to exclude toddie's screams she closed her door tightly, but toddie's voice was one with which all timber seemed in sympathy, and it pierced door and window apparently without effort. gradually, however, it seemed to cease, and with the growing infrequency of his howls and the increasing feebleness of their utterance, mrs. burton's spirits revived. dressing leisurely, she ascended toddie's prison to receive his declaration of penitence and to accord a gracious pardon. she knocked softly at the door, and said:
"toddie?"
there was no response, so mrs. burton knocked and called with more energy than before, but without reply. a terrible fear occurred to her! she had heard of children who screamed themselves to death when angry. hastily she opened the door, and saw toddie tear-stained and dirty, lying on the floor, fast asleep. she stooped over him to be sure that he still breathed, and then the expression on his sweetly parted lips was such that she could not help kissing them. then she raised the pathetic, desolate little figure softly in her arms, and the little head dropped upon her shoulder and nestled close to her neck, and one little arm was clasped tightly around her throat, and a soft voice murmured:
"i wantsh to go a'widin'."
and just then mr. burton entered, and, with a most exasperating affection of ingenuousness and uncertainty, asked:
"did you conquer his will, my dear?"
his wife annihilated him with a look, and led the way to the dining-room; meanwhile toddie awoke, straightened himself, rubbed his eyes, recognized his uncle and exclaimed:
"uncle harry, does you know where we's goin' this afternoon? we's goin' a-widin'."
and mr. burton hid in his napkin all of his face that was below his eyes, and his wife wished that his eyes might have been hidden, too, for never in her life had she been so averse to having her own eyes looked into.
the extreme saintliness of both boys during the afternoon's ride took the sting out of mrs. burton's defeat. they gabbled to each other about flowers and leaves and birds, and they assumed ownership of the few summer clouds that were visible, and made sundry exchanges of them with each. when the dog jerry, who had surreptitiously followed the carriage and grown weary, was taken in by his master, they even allowed him to lie at their feet without kicking, pinching his ears, or pulling his tail.
as for mrs. burton, no right-minded husband could willfully torment his wife upon her birthday, so she soon forgot the humiliation of the morning, and came home with superb spirits and matchless complexion for the little party. her guests soon began to arrive, and after the company was assembled mrs. burton's chambermaid ushered in budge and toddie, each in spotless attire, and the dog jerry ushered himself in, and toddie saw him and made haste to interview him, and the two got inextricably mixed about the legs of a light jardiniere, and it came down with a crash, and then the two were sent into disgrace, which suited them exactly; although there was a difference between them as to whether the dog jerry should seek and enjoy the seclusion upon which his heart was evidently intent.
then budge retired with a face full of fatherly solicitude, and mrs. burton was enabled to devote herself to the friends to whom she had not previously been able to address a single consecutive sentence.
mrs. burton occasionally suggested to her husband that it might be well to see where the boys were, and what they were doing; but that gentleman had seldom before found himself the only man among a dozen comely and intelligent ladies, and he was too conscious of the variety of such experiences to trouble himself about a couple of people who had unlimited ability to keep themselves out of trouble; so the boys were undisturbed for the space of two hours. a sudden summer shower came up in the meantime, and a sentimental young lady requested the song "rain upon the roof," and mrs. burton and her husband began to render it as a duet; but in the middle of the second stanza mrs. burton began to cough, mr. burton sniffed the air apprehensively, while several of the ladies started to their feet while others turned pale. the air of the room was evidently filled with smoke.
"there can't be any danger, ladies," said mrs. burton. "you all know what the american domestic servant is. i suppose our cook, with her delicate sense of the appropriate, is relighting her fire, and has the kitchen doors wide open, so that all the smoke may escape through the house instead of the chimney. i'll go and stop it."
the mere mention of servants had its usual effect; the ladies began at once that animated conversation which this subject has always inspired, and which it will probably continue to inspire until all housekeepers gather in that happy land, one of whose charms it is that the american kitchen is undiscernible within its borders, and the purified domestic may stand before her mistress without needing a scolding. but one nervous young lady, whose agitation was being manifested by her feet alone, happened to touch with the toe of her boot the turn-screw of the hot-air register. instantly she sprang back and uttered a piercing scream, while from the register there arose a thick column of smoke.
"fire!" screamed one lady.
"water!" shrieked another.
"oh!" shouted several in chorus.
some ran up-stairs, others into the rainy street, the nervous young lady fainted, a business-like young matron, who had for years been maturing plans of operation in case of fire, hastily swept into a table-cover a dozen books in special morocco bindings, and hurried through the rain with them to a house several hundred feet away, while the faithful dog jerry, scenting the trouble afar off, hurried home and did his duty to the best of his ability by barking and snapping furiously at every one, and galloping frantically through the house, leaving his mark upon almost every square yard of the carpet. meanwhile mr. burton hurried up-stairs coatless, with disarranged hair, dirty hands, smirched face, and assured the ladies that there was no danger, while budge and toddie, the former deadly pale, and the latter almost apoplectic in color, sneaked up to their own chamber.
the company dispersed: ladies who had expected carriages did not wait for them, but struggled to the extreme verge of politeness for the use of such umbrellas and waterproof-cloaks as mrs. burton could supply. fifteen minutes later the only occupant of the parlor was the dog jerry, who lay, with alert head, in the centre of a large "turkish chair. mrs. burton, tenderly supported by her husband, descended the stair, and contemplated with tightly compressed lips and blazing eyes the disorder of her desolated parlor. when, however, she reached the dining-room and beheld the exquisitely-set lunch-table, to the arrangement of which she had devoted hours of thought in preceding days and weeks, she burst into a flood of tears.
"i'll tell you how it was," remarked budge, who appeared suddenly and without invitation, and whose consciousness of good intention made him as adamant before the indignant frowns of his uncle and aunt, "i always think bonfires is the nicest things about celebrations, an' tod an' me have been carryin' sticks for two days to make a big bonfire in the back yard to-day. but then it rained, an' rainy sticks won't burn—i guess we found that out last thanksgivin' day. so we thought we'd make one in the cellar, 'cause the top is all tin, an' the bottom's all dirt, an' it can't rain in there at all. an' we got lots of newspapers and kindlin'-wood, an' put some kerosene on it, an' it blazed up beautiful, an' we was just comin' up to ask you all down to look at it, when in came uncle harry, an' banged me against the wall an' tod into the coal-heap, an' threw a mean old dirty carpet on top of it, an' wet'ed it all over."
"little boysh never can do anyfing nysh wivout bein' made to don't," said toddie. "dzust see what an awful big splinter i got in my hand when i was froin' wood on the fire! i didn't cry a bit about it then, 'cause i fought i was makin' uvver folks happy, like the lord wants little boysh to. but they didn't get happy, so now i am goin' to cry 'bout the splinter!"
and toddie raised a howl which was as much superior to his usual cry as things made to order generally are over the ordinary supply.
"we had a torchlight procession, too," said budge. "we had to have it in the attic, but it wasn't very nice. there wasn't any trees up there for the light to dance around on, like it does on 'lection-day nights. so we just stopped, an' would have felt real doleful if we hadn't thought of the bonfire."
"where did you leave the torches?" asked mr. burton, springing from his chair, and lifting his wife to her feet at the same time.
"i—i dunno," said budge, after a moment of thought.
"froed 'em in a closet where the rags is, so's not to dyty the nice floor wif 'em," said toddie.
mr. burton hurried up-stairs and extinguished a smoldering heap of rags, while his wife, truer to herself than she imagined she was, drew budge to her, and said, kindly:
"wanting to make people happy, and doing it are two very different things, budge."
"yes, i should think they was," said budge, with an emphasis which explained much that was left unsaid.
"little boysh is goosies for tryin' to make big folksh happy at all," said toddie, beginning again to cry.
"oh, no, they're not, dear," said mrs. burton, taking the sorrowful child into her lap. "but they don't always understand how best to do it, so they ought to ask big folks before they begin."
"then there wouldn't be no s'prises," complained toddie. "say; izh we goin' to eat all this supper?"
"i suppose so, if we can," sighed mrs. burton.
"i guesh we can—budgie an' me," said toddie. "an' won't we be glad all them wimmens wented away!"
that evening, after the boys had retired, mrs. burton seemed a little uneasy of mind, and at length she said to her husband:
"i feel guilty at never having directed the boys' devotions since they have been here, and i know no better time than the present in which to begin."
mr. burton's eyes followed his wife reverently as she left the room. the service she proposed to render the children she had sometimes performed for himself, with results for which he could not be grateful enough, and yet it was not with unalloyed anticipation that he softly followed her up the stair. mrs. burton went into the chamber and found the boys playing battering-ram, each with a pillow in front of him.
"children," said she, "have you said your prayers?"
"no," said budge; "somebody's got to be knocked down first. then we will."
a sudden tumble by toddie was the signal for devotional exercises, and both boys knelt beside the bed.
"now, darlings," said mrs. burton, "you have made some sad mistakes to-day, and they should teach you that, even when you want most to do right, you need to be helped by somebody better. don't you think so?"
"i do," said budge. "lots."
"i don't," said toddie. "more help i getsh, the worse fings is. guesh i'll do fings all alone affer thish."
"i know what to say to the lord to-night, aunt alice," said budge.
"dear little boy," said mrs. burton, "go on."
"dear lord," said budge, "we do have the awfullest times when we try to make other folks happy. do, please, lord—please teach big folks how hard little folks have to think before they do things for 'em. an' make 'em understand little folks every way better than they do, so that they don't make little folks unhappy when they try to make big folks feel jolly. make big folks have to think as hard as little folks do, for christ's sake—amen! oh, yes, an' bless dear mamma an' the sweet little sister baby. how's that, aunt alice?"
mrs. burton did not reply, and budge, on turning, saw only her departing figure, while toddie remarked:
"now, it's my tyne (turn.) dear lord, when i getsh to be a little boy anzel up in hebben, don't let growed-up anzels come along whenever i'm doin' anyfing nice for 'em, an' say 'don't,' or tumble me down in heaps of nashty old black coal. there! amen!"
it was with a sneaking sense of relief that mrs. burton awoke on the following morning, and realized that the day was sunday. even schoolteachers have two days of rest in every seven, thought mrs. burton to herself, and no one doubts that they deserve them. how much more deserving of rest and relief, then, must be the volunteer teacher who, not for a few hours only, but from dawn to twilight, has charge of two children whose capacity for both learning and mischief, surely equals any school-full of boys? the realization that she was attempting, for a few days only, that which mothers everywhere were doing without hope of rest excepting in heaven, made mrs. burton feel more humble and worthless than she had ever done in her life before, but it did not banish her wish to turn the children over to the care of their uncle for the day. if mrs. burton had been honest with herself she would have admitted that the principal cause of her anxiety for relief was her unwillingness to have her husband witness the failures which she had come to believe were to be her daily lot while trying to train her nephews. thoughts of a sunday excursion, from participation in which she should in some way excuse herself; of volunteering to relieve her sister-in-law's nurse during the day, and thus leaving her husband in charge of the house and the children; of making that visit to her mother which is always in order with the newly-made wife—all these, and other devices not so practicable, came before mrs. burton's mind's eye for comparison, but they all and together took sudden wing when mr. burton awoke and complained of a raging toothache. truly pitiful and sympathetic as mrs. burton was, she exhibited remarkable resignation in the face of the thought that her husband would probably need to remain in his room all day, and that it would be absolutely necessary to keep the children out of his sight and hearing. then he could find nothing to criticise; she might fail as frequently as she probably would, but he would know only of her successes.
a light knock was heard at mrs. burton's door, and then, without waiting for invitation, there came in two fresh, rosy faces, two heads of disarranged hair, and two long white nightgowns, and the occupant of the longer gown exclaimed:
"say, uncle harry, do you know it's sunday? what are you going to do about it? we always have lots done for us sundays, 'cause it's the only day papa's home."
"yes, i—think i've heard—something of the kind—before," mumbled mr. burton, with difficulty, between the fingers which covered his aching incisor.
"oh—h," exclaimed toddie, "i b'lieve he' goin' to play bear! come on, budge, we's got to be dogs." and toddie buried his face in the bed-covering and succeeded in fastening his teeth in his uncle's calf. a howl from the sufferer did not frighten off the amateur dog, and he was finally dislodged only by being clutched by the throat by his victim.
"that izhn't the way to play bear," complained toddie; "you ought to keep on a-howlin' an' let me keep on a-bitin', an' then you give me pennies to stop—that's the way papa does."
"can you see how tom lawrence can be so idiotic?" asked mrs. burton.
"i suppose i could," replied the gentleman, "if i hadn't such a toothache."
"you poor old fellow!" said mrs. burton, tenderly. then she turned to her nephews, and exclaimed: "now, boys, listen to me! uncle harry is very sick to-day—he has a dreadful toothache, and every particle of bother and noise will make it worse. you must both keep away from his room, and be as quiet as possible wherever you may be in the house. even the sound of people talking is very annoying to a person with the toothache."
"then you's a baddy woman to stay in here an' keep a-talkin' all the whole time," said toddie, "when it makes poor old uncle harry supper so. g'way."
mrs. burton's lord and master was not in too much pain to shake considerably with silent laughter over this unexpected rebuke, and the lady herself was too thoroughly startled to devise an appropriate retort; so the boys amused themselves by a general exploration of the chamber, not omitting even the pockets of their uncle's clothing. this work completed, to the full extent of their ability, the boys demanded breakfast.
"breakfast won't be ready until eight o'clock," said mrs. burton, "and it is now only six. if you little boys don't want to feel dreadfully hungry, you had better go back to bed, and lie as quiet as possible."
"is that the way not to be hungry?" asked toddie, with wide-open eyes, which always accompany the receptive mind.
"certainly," said mrs. burton. "if you run about, you agitate your stomachs, and that makes them restless, and so you feel hungry."
"gwacious!" said toddie. "what lots of fings little boys has got to lyne (learn), hazn't they? come on, budgie—let's go put our tummuks to bed, an' keep 'em from gettin' ajjerytated."
"all right," said budge. "but say, aunt alice, don't you s'pose our stomachs would be sleepier an' not so restless if there was some crackers or bread an' butter in 'em?"
"there's no one down-stairs to get you any," said mrs. burton.
"oh," said budge, "we can find them. we know where everything is in the pantries and store-room."
"i wish i were so smart," sighed mrs burton. "go along—get what you want—but don't come back to this room again. and don't let me find anything in disorder down-stairs, or i shall never trust you in my kitchen again."
away flew the children, but their disappearance only made room for a new torment, for mr. burton stopped in the middle of the operation of shaving himself, and remarked:
"i've been longing for sunday to come, for your sake, my dear. the boys, as you have frequently observed, have very strange notions about holy things; but they are also, by nature, quite religious and spiritually minded. you are not only this latter, but you are free from strange doctrines and the traditions of men. the mystical influences of the day will make themselves felt upon those innocent little hearts, and you will have the opportunity to correct wrong teachings and instil new sentiments and truths."
mr. burton's voice had grown a little shaky as he reached the close of this neat and reverential speech, so that his wife scrutinized his face closely to see if there might not be a laugh somewhere about it. a friendly coating of lather protected one cheek, however, and the troublesome tooth had distorted the shape of the other, so mrs. burton was compelled to accept the mingled ascription of praise and responsibility, which she did with a sinking heart.
"i'll take care of them while you're at church, my dear," said mr. burton; "they're always saintly with sick people."
mrs. burton breathed a sigh of relief. she determined that she would extemporize a special "children's service" immediately after breakfast, and impress her nephews as fully as possible with the spirit of the day; then if her husband would but continue the good work thus begun, it would be impossible for the boys to fall from grace in the few hours which remained between dinner-time and darkness. full of her project, and forgetting that she had allowed her chambermaid to go to early mass and promised herself to see that the children were dressed for breakfast, mrs. burton, at the breakfast-table, noticed that her nephews did not respond with their usual alacrity to the call of the bell. recalling her forgotten duty, she hurried to the boys' chamber, and found them already enjoying a repast which was remarkable at least for variety. on a small table, drawn to the side of the bed, was a pie, a bowl of pickles, a dish of honey in the comb, and a small paper package of cinnamon bark, and, with spoons, knives and forks and fingers, the boys were helping themselves alternately to these delicacies. seeing his aunt, toddie looked rather guilty, but budge displayed the smile of the fully justified, and remarked:
"now, you know what kind of meals little boys like, aunt alice. i hope you won't forget it while we're here."
"what do you mean!" exclaimed mrs. burton, sternly, "by bringing such things up-stairs?"
"why," said budge, "you told us to get what we wanted, an' we supposed you told the troof."
"an' i ain't azh hungry azh i wazh," remarked toddie, "but my tummuk feels as if it growed big and got little again, every minute or two, an' it hurts. i wishes we could put tummuks away when we get done usin' 'em, like we do hats an' overshoes."
to sweep the remains of the unique morning lunch into a heap and away from her nephews, was a work which occupied but a second or two of mrs. burton's time; this done, two little boys found themselves robed more rapidly than they had ever before been. arrived at the breakfast-table, they eyed with withering contempt an irreproachable cutlet, some crisp-brown potatoes of wafer-like thinness, and a heap of rolls almost as light as snowflakes.
"we don't want done of this kind of breakfast," said budge.
"of course we don't," said toddie, "when we's so awful full of uvver fings. i don't know where i'zhe goin' to put my dinner when it comes time to eat it."
"don't fret about that, tod," said budge. "don't you know papa says that the bible says something that means 'don't worry till you have to.'"
mrs. burton raised her eyebrows with horror not unmixed with inquiry, and her husband hastened to give budge's sentiment its proper biblical wording. "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." mrs. burton's wonder was allayed by the explanation, although her horror was not, and she made haste to say:
"boys, we will have a little sunday-school, all by ourselves, in the parlor, immediately after breakfast."
"hooray!" shouted budge. "an' will you give us a ticket an' pass around a box for pennies, just like they do in big sunday-schools?"
"i—suppose so," said mrs. burton, who had not previously thought of these special attractions of the successful sunday-school.
"let's go right in, tod," said budge,"'cause the dog's in there. i saw him as i came down, and i shut all the doors, so he couldn't get out. we can have some fun with him 'fore sunday-school begins."
both boys started for the parlor-door, and, guided by that marvelous instinct with which providence arms the few against the many, and the weak against the strong, the dog jerry also approached the door from the inside. as the door opened, there was heard a convulsive howl, and a general tumbling of small boys, while at almost the same instant the dog jerry flew into the dining-room and hid himself in the folds of his mistress's morning-robe. two or three minutes later budge entered the dining-room with a very rueful countenance, and remarked:
"i guess we need that sunday-school pretty quick, aunt alice. the dog don't want to play with us, and we ought to be comforted some way."
"they're grown people, all over again," remarked mr. burton, with a laugh.
"what do you mean?" demanded mrs.burton.
'now you know what kind of meals little boys like, aunt alice.'
toddie looked rather guilty, but budge
displayed the smile of the fully justified, and
remarked, "now you know what kind of meals little
boys like, aunt alice."
"only this—that when their own devices fail, they're in a hurry for the consolations of religion," said mr. burton. "may i visit the sunday-school?"
"i suppose i can't keep you away," sighed mrs. burton, leading the way to the parlor. "boys," said she, greeting her nephews, "first, we'll sing a little hymn; what shall it be?"
"ole uncle ned," said toddie, promptly.
"oh, that's not a sunday song," said mrs. burton.
"i fink tizh," said toddie, "'cause it sayzh, free or four timezh, 'he's gone where de good niggers go,' an' that's hebben, you know; so it's a sunday song."
"i think 'glory, glory, hallelujah!' is nicer," said budge, "an' i know that's a sunday song, 'cause i've heard it in church."
"aw wight," said toddie; and he immediately started the old air himself, with the words, "there liezh the whisky-bottle, empty on the sheff," but was suddenly brought to order by a shake from his aunt, while his uncle danced about the front parlor in an ecstasy not directly traceable to toothache.
"that's not a sunday song either, toddie," said mrs. burton. "the words are real rowdyish. where did you learn them?"
"round the corner from our housh," said toddie, "an' you can shing your ole shongs yourseff, if you don't like mine."
mrs. burton went to the piano, rambled among chords for a few seconds, and finally recalled a sunday-school air in which toddie joined as angelically as if his own musical taste had never been impugned.
"now i guess we'd better take up the collection before any little boys lose their pennies," said budge, hurrying to the dining-room, and returning with a strawberry-box which seemed to have been specially provided for the occasion; this he passed gravely before toddie, and toddie held his hand over it as carefully as if he were depositing hundreds, and then toddie took the box and passed it before budge, who made the same dumb show, after which budge retook the box, shook it, listened, and remarked, "it don't rattle—i guess it's all paper-money, to-day," placed it upon the mantel, reseated himself, and remarked:
"now bring on your lesson."
mrs. burton opened her bible with a sense of utter helplessness. with the natural instinct of a person given to thoroughness, she opened at the beginning of the book, but she speedily closed it again—the first chapter of genesis had suggested many a puzzling question even to her orthodox mind. turning the leaves rapidly, passing, for conscience sake, the record of many a battle, the details of which would have delighted the boys, and hurrying by the prophecies as records not for the minds of children, she at last reached the new testament, and the ever-new story of the only boy who ever was all that his parents and relatives could wish him to be.
"the lesson will be about jesus," said mrs. burton."
"little-boy jesus or big-man jesus?" asked toddie.
"a—a—both," replied the teacher, in some confusion.
"aw wight," said toddie. "g'won."
"there was once a time when all the world was in trouble, without knowing exactly why," said mrs. burton; "but the lord understood it, for he understands everything."
"does he knows how it feels to be a little boy?" asked toddie, "an' be sent to bed when he don't want to go?"
"and he determined to comfort the world, as he always does when the world finds out it can't comfort itself," continued mrs. burton, entirely ignoring her nephew's questions.
"but wasn't there lotzh of little boyzh then?" asked toddie, "an' didn't they used to be comforted as well as big folks?"
"i suppose so," said mrs. burton. "but he knew if he comforted grown people, they would make the children happy."
"i wiss he'd comfort you an' uncle harry every mornin', then," said toddie. "g'won."
"so he sent his own son—his only son—down to the world to be a dear little baby."
"i should think he'd have made him a sister baby," said budge, "if he'd wanted to make everybody happy."
"he knew best," said mrs. burton. "and while smart people everywhere were wondering what would or could happen to quiet the restless heart of people—"
"izh restless hearts like restless tummuks?" interrupted toddie. "kind o' limpy an' wabbley?"
"i suppose so," said mrs. burton.
"poor folks," said toddie clasping, his hands over his waistband: "izhe sorry for 'em."
"while smart folks were trying to think out what should be done," continued mrs. burton, "some simple shepherds, who used to sit around at night under the moon and stars, and wonder about things which they could not understand, saw a wonderfully bright star up in the sky."
"was it one of the twinkle-twinkle kind, or one of the stand-still kind?" asked toddie.
"i don't know," said mrs. burton, after a moment's reflection. "why do you ask?"
"'cauzh," said toddie, "i know what 'twazh there for, an' it ought to have twinkled, 'cauzh twinkley star bobs open and shut that way 'cauzh they're laughin' and can't keep still, an' i know i'd have laughed if i'd been a star an' was goin' to make a lot of folks so awful happy. g'won."
"then," said mrs. burton, looking alternately and frequently at the two accounts of the advent, "they suddenly saw an angel, and the shepherds were afraid."
"should fink they would be," said toddie. "everybody gets afraid when they see good people around. i 'spec' they thought the angel would say 'don't!' in about a minute."
"but the angel told them not to be afraid," said mrs. burton, "for he had come to bring good news. there was to be a dear little baby born at bethlehem, and he would make everybody happy."
"wouldn't it be nice if that angel would come an' do it all over again?" said budge. "only he ought to pick out little boys instead of sheep fellows. i wouldn't be afraid of an angel."
"neiver would i," said toddie, "but i dzust go round behind him an' see how his wings was fastened on."
"then a great many other angels came," said mrs. burton, "and they all sang and sang together. the poor shepherds didn't know what to make of it, but after the singing was over, they all started for bethlehem, to see that wonderful baby."
"just like the other day we went to see the sister-baby."
"yes," said mrs. burton; but instead of finding him in a pleasant home and a nice room, with careful friends and nurses around him, he was in a manger out in a stable."
"that was 'cause he was so smart that he could do just what he wanted to, an' be just where he liked," said budge, "an' he was a little boy, an' little boys always like stables better than houses—i wish i could live in a stable always an' for ever."
"so do i," said toddie, "an' sleep in mangers, 'cauzh then the horses would kick anybody that made me put on clean clothezh when i didn't want to. they gaveded him presentsh, didn't they?"
"yes," said mrs. burton; "gold, frankincense, and myrrh."
"why didn't they give him rattles and squealey-balls, like folks did budder phillie when he was a baby," asked toddie.
"because, toddie," said mrs. burton, glad of an opportunity to get the sentiment of the story into her own hands, from which it had departed very early in the course of the lesson—"because he was no common baby, like other children. he was the lord."
"what! the lord once a dear little baby?" exclaimed toddie.
"yes," replied mrs. burton, shuddering to realize that toddie had not before been taught of the nature of the holy trinity.
"an' played around like uvver little boysh?" continued toddie.
"i—i—suppose so," said mrs. burton, fearing lest in trying to instill reverence into her nephews, she herself might prove irreverent.
"did somebody say 'don't' at him every time he did anyfing?" continued toddie.
"n—n—n—o! i imagine not," said mrs. burton, "because he was always good."
"that don't make any diffwelence," said toddie. "the better a little boy triesh to be, the more folks say 'don't' to him. so i guesh nobody had any time to say anyfing elsh at all to jesus."
"what did he do next?" asked budge, as deeply interested as if he had not heard the same story many times before.
"he grew strong in body and spirit," said mrs. burton, "and everybody loved him; but before he had time to do all that, an angel came and frightened his papa in a dream, and told him that the king of that country would kill little jesus if he could find him. so joseph, the papa of jesus, and mary, his mamma, got up in the middle of the night, and started off to egypt."
"seems to me that egypt was 'bout as bad in those days as europe is now," remarked budge. "whenever papa tells about anybody that nobody can find, he says, 'gone to europe, i s'pose.' what did they find when they got there?"
"i don't know," said mrs. burton, musing. "i suppose the papa worked hard for money to buy good food and comfortable resting-places for his wife and baby; and i suppose the mamma walked about the fields, and picked pretty flowers for her baby to play with; and i suppose the baby cooed when his mamma gave them to him, and laughed and danced and played, and then got tired, and came and hid his little face in his mamma's lap, and was taken into her arms and held ever so tight, and fell asleep, and that his mother looked into his face as if she would look through it, while she tried to find out what her baby would be and do when he grew up, and whether he would be taken away from her, while it seemed as if she couldn't live at all without having him very closely pressed to her breast and—"
mrs. burton's voice grew a little shaky, and, finally, failed her entirely. budge came in front of her, scrutinized her intently, but with great sympathy, also, and, finally, leaned his elbows on her knees, dropped his face into his own hands, looked up into her face, and remarked:
"why, aunt alice, she was just like my mamma, wasn't she? an' i think you are just like both of 'em!"
mrs. burton took budge hastily into her arms, covered his face with kisses, and totally destroyed another chance of explaining the difference between the earthly and the heavenly to her pupils, while toddie eyed the couple with evident disfavor, and remarked:
"i fink 'twould be nicer if you'd see if dinner was bein' got ready, instead of stoppin' tellin' stories an' huggin' budge. my tummuk's all gotted little again."
mrs. burton came back to the world of to-day from that of history, though not without a sigh, while the dog jerry, who had divined the peaceful nature of the occasion so far as to feel justified in reclining beneath his mistress's chair, now contracted himself into the smallest possible space, slunk out of the doorway, and took a lively quickstep in the direction of the shrubbery. toddie had seen him, however, and told the news to budge, and both boys were soon in pursuit; noticing which the dog jerry speedily betook himself to that distant retirement which the dog who has experience in small boys knows so well how to discover and maintain.
as the morning wore on, the boys grew restless, fought, drummed on the piano, snarled when that instrument was closed, meddled with everything that was within reach, and finally grew so troublesome that their aunt soon felt that to lose was cheaper than to save, so she left the house to the children, and sought the side of the lounge upon which her afflicted husband reclined. the divining sense of childhood soon found her out, however, and budge remarked:
"aunt alice, if you're going to church, seems to me it's time you was getting ready."
"i can't go to church, budge," sighed mrs. burton. "if i do, you boys will only turn the whole house upside down, and drive your poor uncle nearly crazy."
"no, we won't," said budge. "you don't know what nice nurses we can be to sick people. papa says nobody can even imagine how well we can take care of anybody until they see us do it. if you don't believe it, just leave us with uncle harry, an' stay home from church an' peek through the key-hole."
"go on, allie," said mr. burton. "if you want to go to church, don't be afraid to leave me. i think you should go—after your experience of this morning. i shouldn't think your mind could be at peace until you had joined your voice with that of the great congregation, and acknowledged yourself to be a miserable sinner."
mrs. burton winced, but nevertheless retired, and soon appeared dressed for church, kissed her husband and her nephews, gave many last instructions, and departed. budge followed her with his eye until she had stepped from the piazza, and then remarked, with a sigh of relief:
"now i guess we'll have what papa calls a good, old-fashioned time—we've got rid of her."
"budge!" exclaimed mr. burton, sternly, and springing to his feet, "do you know who you are talking about? don't you know that your aunt alice is my wife, and that she has saved you from many a scolding, done you many a favor, and been your best friend?"
"oh, yes," said budge, with at least a dozen inflections on each word, "but ev'ry day friends an' sunday friends are kind o' different; don't you think so? she can't make whistles, or catch bull-frogs, or carry both of us up the mountain on her shoulders, or sing 'roll, jordan.'"
"and do you expect me to do all these things to-day?" asked mr. burton.
"n—n—no," said budge, "unless you should get well an' feel just like it; but we'd like to be with somebody who could do 'em if he wanted to. we like ladies that's all ladies, but then we like men that's all men, too. aunt alice is a good deal like an angel, i think, and you—you ain't. an' we don't want to be with angels all the time until we're angels ourselves."
mr. burton turned over suddenly and contemplated the back of the lounge at this honest avowal of one of humanity's prominent weaknesses, while budge continued:
"we don't want you to get to be an angel, so what i want to know is, how to make you well. don't you think if i borrowed papa's horse and carriage an' took you ridin' you'd feel better? i know he'd lend 'em to me if i told him you were goin' to drive."
"and if you said you were going with me to take care of me?" suggested mr. burton.
"y—e—es," said budge, as hesitatingly as if such an idea had never occurred to him. "an' don't you think that up to the top of the hawksnest rock an' out to passaic falls would be the nicest places for a sick man to go? when you got tired of ridin' you could stop the carriage an' cut us a cane, or make us whistles, or find us pfingster apples (the seed-balls of the wild azalea), or even send us in swimming in a brook somewhere if you got tired of us."
"h'm!" grunted mr. burton.
"an' you might take fings to eat wif you," suggested toddie, "an' when you got real tired and felt bad, you might stop and have a little picnic. i fink that would be dzust the fing for a man wif the toothache. and we could help you lotsh."
"i'll see how i feel after dinner," said mr. burton. "but what are you going to do for me between now and then, to make me feel better?"
"we tell you storiezh," said toddie. "them's what sick folks alwayzh likesh."
"very well," said mr. burton. "begin right away."
"aw wight," said toddie. "do you want a sad story or a d'zolly one?"
"anything," said mr. burton. "men with the toothache can stand nearly anything. don't draw on your imagination too hard."
"don't never draw on madzinasuns," said toddie; "i only draws on slatesh."
"never mind; give us the story."
"well," said toddie, seating himself in a rocking-chair, and fixing his eyes on the ceiling, "guesh i'll tell about abrahammynisaac. onesh the lord told a man named abraham to go up the mountain an' chop his little boy's froat open an' burn him up on a naltar. so abraham started to go to do it. an' he made his little boy isaac, that he was going to chop and burn up carry the kindlin' wood he was goin' to set him a-fire wiz. an' i want to know if you fink that wazh very nysh of him?"
"well,—no," said mr. burton.
"tell you what," said budge, "you don't ever catch me carryin' sticks up the mountain, even if my papa wants me to."
"when they got up there," said toddie, "abraham made a naltar an' put little ikey on it, an' took a knife an' was goin' to chop his froat open, when a andzel came out of hebben an' said: 'stop a-doin' that.' so abraham stopped, an' ikey skooted; an' abraham saw a sheep caught in the bushes, an' he caught him an' killed him. he wasn't goin' to climb way up a mountain to kill somebody an' not have his knife bluggy a bit. an' he burned the sheep up. an' then he went home again."
"i'll bet you isaac's mamma never knew what his papa wanted to do with him," said budge, "or she'd never let her little boy go away in the mornin'. do you want to bet?"
"n—no, not on sunday, i guess," said mr. burton. "now, suppose you little boys go out of doors and play for a while, while uncle tries to get a nap."
the boys accepted the suggestion and disappeared. half an hour later, as mrs. burton was walking home from church under escort of old general porcupine, and enduring with saintly fortitude the general's compliments upon her management of the children, there came screams of fear and anguish from the general's own grounds, which the couple were passing.
"who can that be?" exclaimed the general, his short hairs bristling like the quills of his titular godfather. "we have no children."
"i—think i know the voices," gasped mrs. burton, turning pale.
"bless my soul!" exclaimed the general, with an accent which showed that he was wishing the reverse of blessings upon souls less needy than his own. "you don't mean—"
"oh, i do!" said mrs. burton, wringing her hands. "do hurry!"
the general puffed and snorted up his gravel walk and toward the shrubbery, behind which was a fish-pond, from which direction the sound came. mrs. burton followed, in time to see her nephew budge help his brother out of the pond, while the general tugged at a large crawfish which had fastened its claw upon toddie's finger. the fish was game, but, with a mighty pull from the general, and a superhuman shriek from toddie, the fish's claw and body parted company, and the general, still holding the latter tightly, staggered backward, and himself fell into the pond.
"ow—ow—ow!" howled toddie, clasping the skirt of his aunt's mauve silk in a ruinous embrace, while the general floundered and snorted like a whale in dying agonies, and budge laughed as merrily as if the whole scene had been provided especially for his entertainment. mrs. burton hurried her nephews away, forgetting, in her mortification, to thank the general for his service, and placing a hand over toddie's mouth.
"it hurts," mumbled toddie.
"what did you touch the fish at all for?" asked mrs. burton.
"it was a little baby-lobster," sobbed toddie; "an' i loves little babies—all kinds of 'em—an' i wanted to pet him. an' then i wanted to grop him."
"why didn't you do it, then?" demanded the lady.
"'cauze he wouldn't grop," said toddie; "he isn't all gropped yet."
true enough, the claw of the fish still hung at toddie's finger, and mrs. burton spoiled a pair of four-button kids in detaching it, while budge continued to laugh. at length, however, mirth gave place to brotherly love, and budge tenderly remarked:
"toddie, dear, don't you love brother budge?"
"yesh," sobbed toddie.
"then you ought to be happy," said budge, "for you've made him awful happy. if the fish hadn't caught you, the general couldn't have pulled him off, an' then he wouldn't have tumbled into the pond, an' oh, my!—didn't he splash bully!"
"then you's got to be bited with a fiss," said toddie, "an' make him tumble in again, for me to laugh 'bout."
"you're two naughty boys," said mrs. burton. "is this the way you take care of your sick uncle?"
"did take care of him," exclaimed toddie; "told him a lovely bible story, an' you didn't, an' he wouldn't have had no sunday at all if i hadn't done it. an' we's goin' to take him widin' this afternoon."
mrs. burton hurried home, but it seemed to her that she had never met so many inquiring acquaintances during so short a walk. arrived at last, she ordered her nephews to their room, and flung herself in tears beside her husband, murmuring:
"henry!"
and mr. burton, having viewed the ruined dress with the eye of experience, uttered the single word:
"boys!"
"what am i to do with them?" asked the unhappy woman.
mr. burton was an affectionate husband. he adored womankind, and sincerely bemoaned its special grievances; but he did not resist the temptation to recall his wife's announcement of five days before, so he whispered:
"train them."
mrs. burton's humiliation by her own lips was postponed by a heavy footfall, which, by turning her face, she discovered was that of her brother-in-law, tom lawrence, who remarked:
"tender confidences, eh? well, i'm sorry i intruded. there's nothing like them if you want to be happy. but helen's pretty well to-day, and dying to have her boys with her, and i'm even worse with a similar longing. you can't spare them, i suppose?"
the peculiar way in which tom lawrence's eyes danced as he awaited a reply would, at any other time, have roused all the defiance in alice burton's nature; but now, looking at the front of her beautiful dress, she only said:
"why—i suppose—we might spare them for an hour or two!"
"you poor, dear spartan," said tom, with genuine sympathy, "you shall be at peace until their bedtime anyhow."
and mrs. burton found occasion to rearrange the bandage on her husband's face so as to whisper in his ear:
"thank heaven!"
