Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,
Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,
Kaze when you wake, you’ll git some cake,
An’ lots er nice sugar candy!”
How could whole countries be at war and such peace reign in any spot on the globe?
The whirr of an approaching motor awoke them from their musings and stopped the delightful song before one-third of the stanzas had been sung. It was Kent with John in the doctor’s little runabout.
“My boy! my boy!” and Mrs. Brown dropped the baby in her basket and flew across the grass to greet the long-absent Kent.
“I couldn’t wait for Paul but had to get old Dr. John to bring me out. Mumsy, how plump and pink you are. I declare you look almost as young as the new baby,” said Kent after the first raptures of greeting were over. “And Molly, you look great! And ’Fessor Green, I declare you are getting fat. I bet you have gained at least three-quarters of a pound since you got married. Positively obese!”
“You haven’t said much about the baby,” objected Molly.
“Well, there’s not much to say, is there? She is an omnivorous biped, I gather, from the two feet I can see and her evident endeavor to eat them, at least, I fancy that is why she is kicking so high. She has got Edwin’s er—er—well—his high forehead——”
“She is not nearly so bald-headed as you were yourself,” declared his mother. “You were such a lovely baby, Kent, the loveliest of all my babies, I believe. I always adored a bald-headed baby and you had a head like a little billiard ball.”
They all laughed at this and Kent confessed that if he had been bald-headed himself, he believed the little Mildred must be, after all, very charming.
“Any letters for me?” he asked, and Molly thought she detected a note of anxiety below all the nonsense he had been talking.