After school the dog and children ran races together; but no child could run so fast as the dog, with its four legs. It went frisking home, and the grandmother called out, “Why, Frolic!” thinking, for a moment, it was the dog they had before, and that Floribel would come bounding in after it. From that time she always called it Frolic.
The next day the cousins arrived in their wagon, and stopping at the gate, they saw a little dog in the yard, and called out, “There is Frolic, returned. I wonder why Floribel does not come out. Has she forgotten it is her birthday, and that we were to come and carry her home to the party? And where is grandfather? Why is he not sitting in his arm chair, in the doorway?”
Running up the path, they saw their grandmother at the window, dancing a baby up and down. “Where did grandmother pick up that baby?” they exclaimed, and rushed into the house. There they heard the strange story, and truly astonished they were. “Can this be grandfather?” cried Sarah. “This little cooing baby, my own grandfather, who always said such wise things?”
“And can this little foolish dog be my cousin Floribel, who had such long curls, and such a sweet smile!” exclaimed Robert. “What will mother say?”
“Let us dress it up in Floribel's clothes, and mother will think it is she, when we drive up, in the wagon,” said Sarah.
So they put a pink dress and white sun bonnet on the dog; the grandmother tied a straw hat, that had belonged to the doll Rosa, on the baby, who gave rather a wistful glance at old Zachary's black beaver, on the nail, and away they drove.
The mother came to the door to welcome them, and thought she should see Floribel's smiling face under the white bonnet; but O, there was only a dog's sharp nose. “What prank are you playing, children?” she said. “Where have you hidden Floribel?”
“Allow me to introduce grandfather and Floribel,” said Sarah, as she and Robert took the baby and the dog from the wagon.
“What foolish children you are! Whose baby is this?”
The children assured their mother that the baby was their grandfather; but it was not until the old lady, with many sighs and tears, had told the tale, that she could believe it. The two women had rather a melancholy day together, although they did enjoy taking care of the baby, and were not quite sure that it was not as entertaining, with its sprightly little ways, as the old gentleman had been with his grand, moral remarks; and certainly its little shrill pipe was not half so bad as the old tobacco pipe. Sarah said that although she loved her grandfather, she could not help being pleased to have him a baby again; he was so cunning and droll, and she did so like to toss him about, and feed him, and make him laugh.