But Mother Huldah cried, "Maybe the dinner wasn't for me, and you frightened her so she had to give it to you."
Tommie yawned again. "Don't you think that the best thing you can do with a good dinner is to eat it?"
So Mother Huldah ate her dinner, hoping all the while that she was making an honest meal; then, when she had fed Thomas, she asked him if Charlemagne was on the roof. "Indeed, no!" cried he. "Charlemagne has flown to the war country to fetch you a baby!"
"Alas!" cried Mother Huldah. "I pity the poor babes, but how can I bring up a baby?"
"It is your granddaughter," said Tommie. "Charlemagne told me that a year ago your son Rupert married, but he meant to bring his bride home as a surprise to you. Then the war broke out and—"
"O poor little daughter-in-law!" cried Mother Huldah. "Did she break her heart?"
"Yes, and so she followed Rupert to the Country of the Brave Souls; but Charlemagne is fetching the baby in a warm woolen napkin tied up at the four corners; and when his wings get tired from flying he puts a bit of sugar and a drop of water in the baby's mouth and leans his feathery breast against its little feet to keep them warm!"
"Yes! yes!" said Mother Huldah, "a baby's feet should be always kept warm—but, dear me, dear me, the Sweet One will need milk before long, and the grain of the whole wheat to help her grow! I have no money to buy her food."
Tommie looked very wise. "Mother Huldah," he said as he drew a black paw knowingly over one ear, "don't you know that wherever a baby comes, help comes? Open the linen chest and get your shining shears and begin to make little shirts and dresses. I think I'll take a look at the weather."
He made the last remark carelessly like a young gentleman who will stroll out and leave the women-folk to their devices.