So Vee comes back and pries the baby out of my grip.
"Isn't he absurd!" says she. "But he will soon learn. All men are like that at first, I suppose."
"Hear that, Mr. Robert?" says I. "That's what I call a sun-cured disposition."
She'd make a good animal-trainer, Vee; she's so persistent and patient. After dinner she jollies me into tryin' it again.
"You needn't sit so rigid, you know," she coaches me. "Just relax naturally and let his little head rest easy in the hollow of your arm. No, you don't have to grab him with the other hand. Let him kick his legs if he wants to. See, he is looking up at you! Yes, I believe he is. Do you see Daddy? Do you, precious?"
"Must be some sight," I murmurs. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Oh, you may rock him gently, if you like," says Vee. "And I don't suppose he'd mind if you sang a bit."
"Wouldn't that be takin' a mean advantage?" says I.
Vee laughs and goes off so I can practice alone, which was thoughtful of her.
I didn't find it so bad this time. I discovers I can wiggle my toes occasionally without lettin' him crash on to the floor. And I begun to get used to lookin' at him at close range, too. His nose don't seem quite so hopeless as it did. I shouldn't wonder but what he'd grow a reg'lar nose there in time. And their little ears are cute, ain't they? But say, it was them big blue eyes that got me interested. First off they sort of wandered around the room aimless; but after a while they steadies down into gazin' at me sort of curious and admirin'. I rather liked that.