The captain was a duck, and he cried—’”
“Quack, quack!” said Arthur. It was Daddy’s part in the great play, and it made the baby nearly choke with laughter.
“‘Quack, quack!’ said Arthur, and it made the baby nearly choke with laughter”
Arthur was on the floor, in a posture of solemn adoration somewhat out of keeping with his utterances.
“Oh, Baby!” cried Aggie, “what times we’ll have when Daddy’s ship comes home!”
The intellectual life had lapsed; but only for a period. Not for a moment could they contemplate its entire extinction. It was to be resumed with imperishable energy later on; they had pledged themselves to that. Meanwhile they had got beyond the stage when Aggie would call to her husband a dozen times a day:
“Oh, Arthur, look! If you poke him in the cheek like that, he’ll smile.”
And Arthur would poke him in the cheek, very gently, and say: “Why, I never! What a rum little beggar he is! He’s got some tremendous joke against us, you bet.”
And a dialogue like this would follow: “Oh, Arthur, look, look, look, at his little feet!”