"I hope so, dear. She is your very own."
"Him will keep her till him is kite old. Him will show her to him's children and him's g'anchildren, won't him?" went on Baby solemnly.
"I hope so, dear," said auntie again, smiling at his flushed little face.
"Her is so pitty," said Baby. "Her is as sweet as a fairy. Auntie, him would so like to hear all the story about her. Couldn't you find it out, auntie?"
"Perhaps," said auntie, "or, what would be still better, perhaps the little girl will whisper it to you some night when you are asleep."
"That would be nice," said Baby. Then another thought struck him. "Auntie," he said, "will you ask mother to let him bring up the shiny jugs to show them to the pitty little girl? Her would like to see them so nice, and not brokened at all wif the packing. Oh, auntie, what a bootiful birfday—him are so happy!"