What had who done—mistress I supposed—why didn’t she tell me, and I whined and howled; but they paid no attention to me till Louis came in for his orders, as he usually did at this time in the morning, not sauntering, but hurrying and breathing heavily as if he too were excited.
There was a queer smirk on his face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but he had no chance to say anything for the two women just yelled at him, “We’ve got a baby—we’re just like other folks—read that—ain’t it the superfine!”
Now I thought I would go crazy. I barked, and jumped, and screamed, and no one rebuked me.
Cook sat down in mistress’s chair and fanned herself with her apron, Annie the waitress took master’s chair and drummed her fingers on the table, and Louis sat on the fender-stool with his cap on and whistled.
“Let’s have our coffee in here,” said cook, so they had a lovely time by the fire, and talked about the coming of the baby, and how it would turn the family topsy-turvy.
“The old man wasn’t in last night, was he?” remarked Louis.
“No,” said cook, “he wasn’t—something new for him.”
“That kid elevator boy gave me some mouth about it,” said Louis sheepishly.
“What did he say?” asked Annie.