"Isn't it a little dirty, auntie?" said Fritz.
"Wouldn't your face look a little dirty if it had been hanging up in a frame for over a hundred years?" said auntie, laughing, at which Fritz looked rather puzzled.
Then auntie's eyes went back to the picture again.
"It is sweet," she said, "very, very sweet, and so perfectly natural."
All this time, as I told you, Herr Baby's whole mind had been given to the shiny glasses. Suddenly the sound of his aunt's voice caught his ear, and he looked up.
"What is it that is so 'weet, auntie?" he said.
"The picture over there, dear. Hanging up by the door. The little girl."
Baby looked up, and in a moment his eyes brightened.
"Oh, what a dear little baby!" he said. "Oh, her is 'weet! Auntie, him would so like to kiss her."
"You darling!" said auntie, her glance turning from the sweet picture face above to the sweet living face beside her. "I wonder if you will ever learn to paint like that, Baby. I should very much like to copy it if I could have the loan of it. It would be sure to be very dear to buy," she added to herself. "But we must hurry, my little boys," she went on. "I was tempted to waste time admiring the picture, but we must be quick."