The young wife nodded, and fell to dancing the baby's cap on the tips of her fingers.
"And what are bubbles," continued papa, "what are bubbles but a 'fleeting show?'"
The little cap canted over o' one side, and there was a sort of a giggle, just the least bit in the world, it was so cunning, as papa added, in unspeakable solemnity—
"And so, too, everything we covet, everything we love, and everything we revere on earth, are but emptiness and vanity."
Here a nod from the little cap, mounted on the mother's fingers, brought papa to a full stop—a change of look followed—a downright smile—and then a much pleasanter sort of speech—and then, as you live, a kiss!
"And what are bubbles, I should be glad to know, but emptiness and vanity?" continues papa.
"By all this, I am to understand that a wife is a bubble—hey?"
"To be sure."
"And the baby?"
"Another."