The young wife looked up, sorrowing and frightened.
"The measles are about, you know, and the scarlet fever, and the hooping-cough, and the mumps; but, surely, a mother who is with her child all night long and all day long ought to be able to see the symptoms of any and every ailment before they would be suspected by another. And if it should so happen"—
The poor wife could be silent no longer.
"The child is well enough," said she, somewhat stoutly. "He was never better in his life. But he wanted his papa to take him, and he wouldn't; and reaching after him he tipped over the lamp, and then—and then"—and here she jumped up to leave the room; but her husband was too quick for her.
"That child's temper will be ruined," said papa.
"To be sure it will," said mamma; "and I've always said so."
She couldn't help it; but she was very sorry, and not a little flurried when her husband, turning short upon her, said—
"I understand you, Sarah. Perhaps he wanted me to take him up to bed?"
No answer.
"I wonder if he expects me to do that for him till he is married? Little arms, indeed!"