"She's lost, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin', an' I've been tryin' to find her folks, but it's no use huntin' 'round in the night, an' I'll tell you what it is, Plums, we've got to take care of her till mornin'."
"Take care of her! What's creepin' on you, Joe Potter? How do you think we're goin' to look after a kid like that?"
"I don't know why we can't," Joe replied, sharply. "It'll be pretty tough if a couple of fellers ain't able to tend out on a mite of a thing such as her. Say, Plums, don't she look like somethin' you see in the store windows?"
"She's fine as silk, there's no gettin' over that," and Master Plummer would have touched one pink-and-white cheek but that his friend prevented him.
"Now don't go to hurtin' her! She's in hard luck enough as it is, without your mussin' her all up."
"Who's a-hurtin' of her? I was jest goin' to put one finger on her cheek."
"There's no need of doin' so much as that. It might frighten the little thing, and besides, she's too fine to be handled by you and me, Plums. She's a reg'lar little princess, that's what she is," and Joe raised the child quickly, as if to remove the temptation from Master Plummer's path.
"What's her name?" the fat boy asked, as he gazed admiringly at the child.
"I can't seem to make out, she talks so queer," and as if to illustrate his meaning, Joe's princess began to chatter, while she clasped both tiny arms around her self-elected guardian's neck.
"Well, say, I'd give up what I made this afternoon jest for the sake of havin' her hug me like that! Ain't she a daisy?"