The little dwarf ran out in the rain, laughing as he went.
How were the Ink-Bottle Babies to guess whether he owned the rocking-chair or not?
CHAPTER IX
MAY-DAY
In glad springtime the birds all sing,
And sweet the woodland echoes ring;
Why should we not be happy too,
When skies are blue? when skies are blue?
I heard the Ink-Bottle Babies say,
“We’ll hang May baskets up to-day!”