"No, O, no: she don't think's best," replied Flaxie, dropping a hot tear on Peppermint Drop's bosom, which would have melted it a little if it had been made of sugar instead of bran. "Grandma Hyde lives in the other town, 'way off, down where the boats go; and mamma says she can't take but one childrens. She's drefful sorry; but she don't think best."
And the little girl dried her eyes on her doll's bib-apron; for she heard some one coming, and didn't want to be a baby.
It was mamma, with Phil in her arms, fresh from his morning bath, bright, wide-awake, and ready for mischief. His hair was golden,—darker even now than Flaxie's,—and his eyes were the richest brown.
"Shall I let him go?" asked mamma, as if he were a wild creature, and they generally kept him in chains.
"Yes, mamma, let him go."
And, when she dropped her hold of him, he rushed at his sister, and "hugged her grizzly," as she called it, like the most affectionate of little bears.
"Won't Grandma Hyde be exprised to see him? She'll love you and thank you dearly," said Flaxie.
"I'm a little ashamed of him," laughed Mrs. Gray. "You know he has only one tooth."
"Well, he hasn't much teeth, and he can't talk; but he can stand on his head so cunnin'! Phil want to go in boat? Want see Gamma Hyde, and hug her grizzly?"