"Her name is Irene," said Mrs. Tompkins.
"Oh, mamma, where did you get such a pretty name?" asked Abner.
"Who said it was Irene?" put in Oleah.
"I found it written on some of the clothes it wore the morning we found it," answered the mother.
"Then we will call it Irene," said Abner, decisively.
"Irene! Irene! Little Irene! ain't you awful sweet?" cried the impetuous Oleah, snatching the baby from his mother's arms and smothering its screams of delight with kisses. So enthusiastic was the little fellow that the baby was in peril, and his mother, spite of his protestations, took it from him. As soon as released, little Irene's feet and hands began to play, and she responded, with soft cooing and baby laughter, to all the boys' noisy demonstrations.
A youth, with large sad eyes and pale face, now entered the door.
"Oh, come, Joe, come and see the baby!" cried Oleah. "Isn't it sweet? Just look at its pretty bright eyes and its cunning little mouth."
Joe had visited the plantation frequently of late, and Mr. Tompkins having given orders that he should always be kindly treated, had finally established himself there, and was now considered rather a member of the household than a guest.