“Really, Cricket, it may sound funny to you,” said Eunice, squeezing her sister, “but I feel as if I had had babies in my bed for years. It actually seems funny not to feel her squirming around.”
“And I’m very sure, for my part, that adopting babies is not what it’s cracked up to be,” returned Cricket, decidedly. “Eunice, don’t let us adopt her, even if her mother doesn’t come for her. Mamma can, if she wants to, or papa can find somebody else to. I think we have enough children, anyway.”
“She would take a lot of time,” asserted Eunice.
“Yes; and think of dressing her every morning!” added Cricket.
“And having her sleep with us, and kicking us black and blue every night!” said Eunice feelingly.
“Yes, and keeping us awake. Wonder how the poor little thing is.”
“The doctor and ’Liza will take care of her. Listen, Cricket! There’s the clock actually striking two o’clock! Mercy! were we ever awake so late before?”
“Never. I feel forty-six years older than I did last night, don’t you, Eunice?”
But a grunt was Eunice’s only answer, and Cricket speedily followed her to the Land o’ Nod.
The doctor and Eliza had a busy hour over the baby, and at the end of that time it was sleeping quietly, and the night was finished in peace and quiet.