"Then I read from the list the lady had furnished me, and the kids come up. The last party on the list was a little gal that had been poppin' up an' down like a prairie-dog, fearin' she was goin' to git left, and when at last I sings out 'Annabella Angelina Hugginswat!' here she come, her eyes snatched wide open by the two little pigtails that stuck out behind, walkin' knock-kneed and circular, as some little girls does, and stiff er'n a poker in her j'ints from scart-to-death and gladness.
"'Angelina,' says I, pickin' up the big doll-baby I'd saved for her, 'you must be the fond parient of this child,' says I. 'Raise it kindly; teach it that it's been damned since the year of our Lord B. C. 7604; feed it vegetables, Angelina, and keep it away from strong drink, even if you have to use force.'
"Angelina, she didn't mind my pursyflage, but she just stood there quiverin' all over, lookin' at her prize.
"'Ith that my dolly?' she says.
"'That's your sure-enough dolly, little gal,' I says.
"She took hold of it—her little arms was stiff as railroad ties and her hands was cold.
"She looked at me again and whispered: "'Ith that my dolly, really, truly, mithter?'
"She looked so darned funny standin' there that I grabbed her right up and kissed her.
"'If anybody tries to take that dolly away from you, you let me know—skip!' says I, and down the aisle she runs hollerin': 'Oh, papa, papa! Thee my dolly!' Seems she didn't have no mother, poor little thing.
"Well, sir, old human nature is human nature, after all—elsewise it would be a darned funny state of affairs—but anyhow, that little gal's holler did something to my friends, the Oggsouashers. I don't think I overstep the mark when I say some of 'em smiled a kindly smile.