Chapter Nine.
Tears and Smiles.
The spring turned into summer, and with the longer days and warmer sunshine and gentle rain there grew up a great many more “pretty things” for Mary to show to her little sister Dolly; and Dolly herself grew like the flowers and the lambs. By the time she was three months old she could not only smile, she could even give little chuckling laughs when she was very pleased. Mary was quite sure that the baby understood all she said to her, and I do not think she would have been very surprised any day if Dolly had begun to talk.
“Why can’t she talk, mamma?” she asked her mother one morning.
“No little baby learns to do everything at once,” mamma answered. “She has to learn to walk and run and use her little hands the way you do. Just think what a lot of things babies have to learn; you must have patience.”
Mary tried to have patience; she did not so much mind baby’s not being able to stand or walk or things of that kind, for she could understand that her little legs needed to grow stronger and firmer, but for a long time she could not understand about the not talking, and it got to be quite a trouble to her.
“She can cry and she can laugh and she can coo, and she hears all the words we say to her,” said Mary, with a little sigh; “I can’t think why she won’t talk. Oh, baby dear! don’t you think you could if you tried? It’s kite easy.”
Baby was lying on the ground out on the lawn, where nurse had spread a nice thick shawl for her in case the grass might be damp, and Mary was sitting beside her, taking care of her for a minute or two all by herself. Nurse had gone in to fetch some more work. Mary was very proud of being trusted with baby. Leigh and Artie were at their lessons.