They made haste to cut the twine, and behold, a beautiful rug! "Isn't this like that dear, extravagant Jack?" she cried. "Isn't it pretty, Wink? He thought we'd need cheering up!"
Chairs and tables must be pushed aside at once and the rug put in place. Frances had just sat down in the middle of it with great satisfaction, when through the half-open door walked the fattest, rosiest baby imaginable, wearing a very clean blue check apron and an affable smile.
"Why, where did you come from?" they both exclaimed.
This was evidently something he did not care to reveal, for, although he continued to smile and gaze about him with interest, he made no reply.
"'What is your name, baby?'"
"What is your name, baby?" Frances asked, holding out her hands. "Dennyleebon,"—or so it sounded.
"Do you suppose that is intended for English?" said Mrs. Morrison.
"I don't know. Make him say something else. Baby, can you talk?"