Zoie crossed to the bed and knelt at its foot in search of her little pink slippers.
“Oh, Aggie,” she sighed, “the others were all so red!”
But Aggie did not heed her protest. “Listen, Jimmy,” she called in the 'phone, “can't you get another baby?” There was a pause, then Aggie commanded hotly, “Well, GET in the business!” Another pause and then Aggie continued very firmly, “Tell the Superintendent that we JUST MUST have one.”
Zoie stopped in the act of putting on her second slipper and called a reminder to Aggie. “Tell him to get a HE one,” she said, “Alfred wants a boy.”
“Take what you can get!” answered Aggie impatiently, and again she gave her attention to the 'phone. “What!” she cried, with growing despair, and Zoie waited to hear what had gone wrong now. “Nothing under three months,” explained Aggie.
“Won't that do?” asked Zoie innocently.
“Do!” echoed Aggie in disgust. “A three-months' old baby is as big as a whale.”
“Well, can't we say it GREW UP?” asked Zoie, priding herself on her power of ready resource.
“Overnight, like a mushroom?” sneered Aggie.
Almost vanquished by her friend's new air of cold superiority, Zoie was now on the verge of tears. “Somebody must have a new baby,” she faltered. “Somebody ALWAYS has a new baby.”