"Not in the blanket, an' us sittin' close round outside to keep out the cold. Hens sit on their little ones, so do cats—curl round 'em, that is—and there's our jackets," said Sandy lightly.
But first there were remonstrances from the babies to combat, when it was explained to them what they were expected to do.
"Orme kicks an' frows off all the clothes," objected Ross.
"So do Ross," eagerly excused Orme. But the novelty of Barbara as a bed-fellow was some consolation.
"Barbedie no go bed—in f'ock," remarked Barbara indignantly.
Sandy plumped down upon the leads, and took her on his insufficient knees.
When she was quite settled there, with her arm round his neck to keep herself from slipping, Sandy explained matters.
"It's 'stead of your nightie-gown, Barbie," with an entreaty in his tone, in itself a sufficient betrayal of weakness to the baby's feminine intelligence. "We forgot to bring your nightie-gown."
"Fesh it," she ordered, looking up at David, who stood by.
"Can't, Barbie—very sorry," David said apologetically.