"Him likes the wind," said Baby. "It blowed his eyes open; him is quite awake now," and he tried to sit straight up in Lisa's arms.
"Oh, Herr Baby, I cannot hold you so," said Lisa.
"There is such a little way to go," said his mother, who was just behind, "lie still, dear, as Lisa tells you."
"Him would like to walk, him's legs is so 'tiff," said Baby. "P'ease let him walk if it's such a little way!"
His voice was so piteous that mother told Lisa to let him walk; they were going from the station to the hotel, a very little way, as mother had said. Lisa put Baby down on the ground; at first he really tumbled over, his legs felt so funny, but with Lisa's hand he soon got his balance again. It was a very dark night; they could not have seen their way but for the lights of the station and the town.
"What a dark countly zit is!" said Herr Baby. "Is there no moon in zit countly? Denny says in her hymn 'the moon to shine by night,' is there no moon 'cept in him's own countly?"
"What are you chattering about, little man?" said auntie.
"He's asking about the moon, auntie; he wants to know if there isn't any moon here. He thinks we've left it behind at home," said Denny.
A sort of roar from poor Baby interrupted her.
"Oh, Denny, don't, don't say that," he cried, "it makes him sink of the labbits, and Thomas, and Jones, and the trees, and the flowers, and him's dear little bed, and all the sings we'se leaved behind. Him doesn't like you to speak of leaved behind."