“And Matty’s su’e too,” she said, looking up into his face.
They say that American children are thirteen years of age when born. I know they are precocious, and I like them all the better for it. This child was very winning, very pert and pretty, but less chubby, and more intellectual-looking than most British children. For the life of him Reginald could not help lifting her high above his head and kissing her wee red lips as he lowered her into his arms.
“You and I are going to be good friends always, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yes, doc,” she answered gaily; “and of torse the dleat (great) big, big dog.”
“Yes, and you may ride round the decks on him sometimes.”
Matty clapped her hands with joy.
“What a boo’ful moustache you has!” she said.
“You little flatterer!” he replied, as he set her down. “Ah! you have all a woman’s wiles.”
Everything was on board, and the Wolverine was ready to sail that night. But the captain must go on shore to see his friends and bid them adieu first.