"Don't know," said Porky. He looked anxiously at his brother. His generosity in accepting the care of the little girl worried him. He had to watch Beany, who was always more than generous and self-sacrificing.
"Why can't we both have both kids?" he asked. "I don't want you to be stung with a girl all the time. It isn't fair."
"Stuck with a girl!" said Beany. "Why, Porky, I like it! I never could see why when any one has a baby, everybody says, 'Gee, it's a boy! Isn't that bully!' or else 'Huh, it's a girl, too bad!' I never could see it. Course when they get our size they mostly are silly pills, but if I have a hand in bringing up this girl, why, you just watch her, that's all! I bet when she's fifteen she won't look cross-eyed at a boy. I bet she knocks their blocks off! She is going to have some sense!"
"Looks as though you mean to make a scrapper of her," laughed Porky.
"No, she has got to grow up just as much like Mom as she can."
"Well, Mom likes boys all right," was Porky's reminder.
"Yes, but I bet when she was young she never googled at 'em or passed notes or accidentally sat down in the same seat with them or any of that. She isn't that kind. You can see she isn't." And Beany, whose wavy hair and clear blue eyes had already caused him to suffer, nodded his head vigorously.
"Go ahead!" said Porky, "I think it's great having an assortment, only I didn't want you to feel as though you had the worst end of the bargain."
"Not a bit of it!" said Beany. "Not a bit, and I'll lend you my girl to look at or play with whenever you want."
"Much obliged," said Porky, "but I can't help thinking it might be a good plan to break the news to somebody."