“She likes it,” repeated Phronsie, in great glee, and clapping her hands. “Oh, Polly, she does!”
“Doesn’t she!” cried Polly, with shining eyes, for the Granniss baby not only didn’t cry now, but she opened her mouth in a pleased little grin, and tried to pat her small, thin hands together when the ends of the big towel flew apart.
“Oh, Phronsie, she’s trying to play pat-a-cake with you!” screamed Polly, quite enchanted at the happy state of things. “Mamsie, see!”
“Yes, I know.” Mother Pepper nodded in satisfaction, then bundled the baby up in the towel closely. “Polly, I must give her one of Phronsie’s little shirts,” she said in a low voice. “There’s no other way, else she’ll take cold. Run and get it, child.”
Polly started, then stopped and looked back. “Oh, mayn’t Phronsie get it,” she said, although she wanted to dreadfully.
“To be sure,” said Mrs. Pepper, smiling approval. “Now, Phronsie, you may give her one of your own little shirts if you want to, because she’s your baby, you know.”
“Oh, I do want to,” screamed Phronsie, “give one of my own shirts to my very own baby.” And she ran as fast as she could, and pulled out the drawer to the big bureau where her clothes were kept, and raced back, waving it in the air. “Let me put it on,” she begged, “do, Mamsie.”
“No, Phronsie,” said Mamsie, taking it, “I must do that as quickly as I can, so baby won’t take cold.” So the little flannel shirt was slipped over the Granniss baby’s head, she still trying to play pat-a-cake, and then she was wrapped in a warm old quilt, and laid in the very middle of Mrs. Pepper’s big four-poster. “Now, she must go to sleep,” said Mamsie, “and you and I, Polly, and Phronsie too, will clear up these things, and make the bedroom all nice again.”
The Granniss baby fully intended to protest about this arrangement, but she hadn’t fairly begun, when her black eyes closed and she tucked her thumb in her mouth.
“She’s asleep already,” announced Polly, stopping to peep at the small heap in the middle of the big bed, on her way back after helping Mrs. Pepper to empty the tin tub out of the back door. “Hush, Phronsie, don’t wake her up.”