Annetta has been in to the house, and is bringing out all her rag-babies. To be sure; for now there can be a baby in every family. One of these is very large, and has a face as big round as a pint porringer; but the others are quite small. The large one is named Joey Moonbeam. This is a true picture of Joey Moonbeam, copied from her likeness now hanging in Annetta Plummer’s baby-house. The largest of the small rag-babies is named Dorothy Beeswax. She is a little taller than a knitting-needle. This is a true picture of Dorothy Beeswax. The next largest is Betsey Ginger. The next is Jenny Popover. The next is Eudora N. Posy. The “N.” stands for Nightingale. The next is Susan Sugarspoon. This is a true picture of Betsey Ginger. Susan Sugarspoon, and Jenny Popover, and Eudora N. Posy, have not had their pictures taken yet. The smallest of all is Polly Cologne,—the smallest, the prettiest, and the cunningest. Her cheeks are painted pink, and she wears a locket. Her hair is of flax-colored floss-silk, while the hair of all the others is stocking-ravellings. She is the baby of the baby-house, and this is her true and exact picture. Polly Cologne has feet; but the others stand on their stiff petticoats.
Now comes Mrs. Plummer, with seed-cakes for the housekeepers to play supper with; and behind her comes cousin Floy, bringing cinnamon-water, and dishes from the baby-house. The cinnamon-water is in four phials. Each phial has in it sugar, and also rose-leaves.
What are the children laughing and whispering about? and why do they look at little Fanny Brimmer in such a way? Mrs. Plummer has called Annetta aside with one or two others, and is asking why they do so.
“Because,” whispers little Lulu, “Fanny picked out—the biggest—seed-cakes—that had the most—sugar-plums—on the tops.”
Mrs. Plummer tells them, speaking very low, that perhaps Fanny did not know it was selfish to do so; that her mother might never have told her. “Selfish girls,” says Mrs. Plummer, “should be pitied, not laughed at; and besides, perhaps every one of you may be selfish in some other way.”
Half-past four o’clock. What is going on now? Oh! I see. The “family” at the rock are having a party, and to this party have come the “families” from the hollows and the haycock.—No, Rover, you were not invited. Down, sir!—down!
The supper is laid out on the rock. The cinnamon-water is poured into the cups, each cup holding half a thimbleful. Grandfather Johnny and grandmother Minnie sit at the head, and father Jimmy at the foot; while the mothers with their little girls fill the room between. The mothers wear head-dresses. The little girls wear dandelion-curls, and curls of shavings. Only one of the babies is allowed to come to the table, and that is Polly Cologne. The others sit on the floor, and play with their playthings. Joey Moonbeam can come to table, because she is big enough. They call Joey Moonbeam a little girl three years old, that cannot walk, because she has had a fever. Polly Cologne seems to be a pet among all these mothers and little girls. They all want to hold her. Why, by their talk, one might suppose she was a live baby. Hear them. “O little darling!” “Just as cunning!” “Dear ’ittle baby!” “Did zee want some payzings?” “Tum to oor mozzer, oo darling!” “Do let me hold her!” “No, let me, let me!” “Me!” And so she is passed from one to another, and kissed and stroked and patted, and talked to. Really the birthday-party is having a good time. Ah! who would not be a little girl playing supper on a rock, out among the apple-trees, and sipping cinnamon-water?