“Oh, Nannie! short clothes!” said Steve with an admiring gasp.
“Yes,” said Nannie. “Look at the darling little shoes! See her kick them! Oh, she's so glad to be rid of those long dresses.”
Steve's poker was greatly agitated.
“Nannie,” he said, in his quiet way, “I hardly think I can wait much longer.”
“Then you shall have her. Now! Here she goes, daddy!” and Nannie tossed the baby, all laughter and dimples, into the delighted father's arms.
True to her sex, she proceeded to grasp all he had—the poker. Steve held on for safety, but Miss Baby wielded it, and straightway the fire sent forth a shower of sparks that went frolicking up the chimney in pure glee.
“Steve,” said Nannie, pointing to them, “look! See how prone to sin you are.”
But Steve had no time for his derelictions; he was busy studying the wonderful baby.
“Nannie,” he said, “this marks an epoch; and it's Constance's birthday.”
“It's your birthday, too, you dear old stupid!” laughed Nannie.