“Huh,” said Patty, “I’ve only been gone twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four hours seems like a lifetime when you’re not in New York.”
“Hush your foolishness; here comes the baby.”
The tree had been illuminated; the electric lights were shining and the candles twinkling, when little May came toddling into the hall. She was a dear baby, and her pretty hair lay in soft ringlets all over the little head. Her dainty white frock was short, and she wore little white socks and slippers. She came forward a few steps, and then spied the tree and stood stock still.
“What a booful!” she exclaimed, “oh, what a booful!”
Then she went up near the tree, sat down on the floor in front of it, clasped her little fat hands in her lap, and just stared at it.
“I yike to yook at it!” she said, turning to smile at Patty, in a friendly way. “It’s so booful!” she further explained.
“Don’t you want something off it?” asked Patty, who was now sitting on the floor beside the baby.
“Zes; all of ze fings. Zey is all for me! all for baby May!”
As a matter of fact, there were no gifts on the tree, only decorations and lights, but Patty took one or two little trinkets from the branches, and put them in the baby’s lap. “There,” she said. “How do you like those, baby May?”