III—SPECULATIONS
The three children were sitting together in a bunch upon the rug in the gloaming. Baby was talking so Daddy behind his newspaper pricked up his ears, for the young lady was silent as a rule, and every glimpse of her little mind was of interest. She was nursing the disreputable little downy quilt which she called Wriggly and much preferred to any of her dolls.
“I wonder if they will let Wriggly into heaven,” she said.
The boys laughed. They generally laughed at what Baby said.
“If they won’t I won’t go in, either,” she added.
“Nor me, neither, if they don’t let in my Teddy-bear,” said Dimples.
“I’ll tell them it is a nice, clean, blue Wriggly,” said Baby. “I love my Wriggly.” She cooed over it and hugged it.
“What about that, Daddy?” asked Laddie, in his earnest fashion. “Are there toys in heaven, do you think?”
“Of course there are. Everything that can make children happy.”
“As many toys as in Hamley’s shop?” asked Dimples.