A little girl was entertaining the visitors while her mother added the finishing touches to her toilet. One of the ladies said with a significant look: "Not very p-r-e-t-t-y," spelling the last word.
"No," said the child quickly; "but awful s-m-a-r-t."
It was time for "baby girl" to be in bed, but no amount of coaxing could get her there. At last her father offered to lie on the bed till the "sandman" arrived. Off she went "pick-a-back," and the tired mother leaned back in her chair with a sigh of content, ready for a hard-earned rest.
Ten minutes—twenty—half an hour, and she was wondering when her husband would be down, when all at once she heard a soft, stealthy pit-a-pat. Nearer came the steps, and then a little white-robed form, with a tiny finger on her lip, stood in the doorway.
"Hush, hush, muvver," she said. "I'se got farver to sleep."
Taking a Chance
Junior was in the habit of coming to the table with a dirty face and, of course, had to be sent away to wash.
One time his mother, nearly losing patience, said: "Junior, why do you persist in coming to the table without washing? You know I always send you away."