“One of the so-called comic weeklies. You know they publish superb artistic things. I think they are doing a wonderful work in educating the masses to a true appreciation of art. One of the wonderful parts of it was that Willie knew all about it and was not in the least conceited. Any other child would have been set up at being a model for a great artist, but Willie was not affected at all. He has so much character!”
At this point the small Rebecca entered, dragging her doll by one arm, and munching a thick slice of bread, thinly coated with molasses.
“I distinctly said jam,” remarked Mrs. Holmes. “Servants are so heedless. I do not know that molasses is good for Rebbie. What would you think, Mrs. Carr?”
“I don’t think it will hurt her if she doesn’t get too much of it.”
“There’s no danger of her getting too much of it. Mrs. Smithers is too stingy for that. Why, only yesterday, Willie told me that she refused to let him dip his dry bread in the cream, and gave him a cup of plain milk instead. Willie knows when his system needs cream and I want him to have all the nourishment he can get. The idea that she should think she knew more about it than Willie! She was properly punished for it, however. I myself saw Willie throw a stick of stove wood at her and hit her foolish head with it. I think Willie is going to be a soldier, a commander of an army. He has so much executive ability and never misses what he aims at.
“Rebbie, don’t chew on that side, darling; remember your loose tooth is there. Mamma doesn’t want it to come out.”
“Why?” asked Dorothy, with a gleam of interest.
“Because I can’t bear to have her little baby teeth come out and make her grow up! I want to keep her just as she is. I have all my children’s teeth, and some day I am going to have them set into a beautiful bracelet. Look at that! How generous and unselfish of Rebbie! She is trying to share her bread with her doll. I believe Rebbie is going to be a philanthropist, or a college-settlement worker. See, she is trying to give the doll the molasses—the very best part of it. Did you ever see such a beautiful spirit in one so young?”
Before Mrs. Carr could answer, young Ebeneezer had finished his wood carving and had grabbed his protesting twin by the hair.
“There, there, Rebbie,” soothed the mother, “don’t cry. Brother was only loving little sister. Be careful, Ebbie. You can take hold of sister’s hair, but not too hard. They love each other so,” she went on. “Ebbie is really sentimental about Rebbie. He loves to touch and stroke her glorious blonde hair. Did you ever see such hair as Rebbie’s?”