She
looked up with roguish blue eyes to say rapidly:
"Fardie doesn't know what baby goin' agive 'm for Kissemus!"
"Hello! This looks like the real thing," said Langshaw, stepping over
the debris; "but what are all these clothes on the floor for?"
"Oh, Mary was dressing up and just dropped those things when she went to
the village with Viney, though I called her twice to come back and pick
them up," said the mother, sweeping the garments out of the way. "It's
so tiresome of her! Oh, I know you stand up for everything Mary does,
Joe Langshaw; but she is the hardest child to manage!"
Her tone insensibly conveyed a pride in the difficulty of dealing with
her elder daughter, aged six.
"But did you ever see anything like Baby? She can keep a secret as well
as any one! It does look Christmasy, though--doesn't it? Of course all
the work of the tree at the mission comes on me as usual. The children,
with the two Wickersham girls, were helping me until they got tired. Why
don't you come and kiss father, Baby? She is going to sweep up the floor
with her little broom so that father will give her five cents.
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