"Is it possible. Well, now, I should hardly have thought it. What a sweet child he looks, and such a nice complexion, too. It's quite a pleasure to see him. I was considered myself a very fine child a good while ago."
Todd took care to lift the razor judiciously, so as to give Mr. Brown opportunities of replying; and the silversmith said—
"Oh, yes; he's a nice little fellow. He's got his mother's complexion."
"And he shan't lose it," said Todd, "if there's any virtue in pearlometrical savonia."
"In what?"
"Oh, that's the name I give to a soap that preserves the complexion in all its purity. I have only a small parcel of it, so I don't sell it, but I give it away now and then, to my lady customers. Excuse me for one moment."
"Oh, certainly."
Todd opened a glass case, and took out two pieces of soap, of a yellowish tint.
"There, Charley," he said as he handed them to the little fellow. "There's a piece for you, and a piece for mamma."
"Really you are very kind, Mr. Todd," said Brown.