This latter blessing gave the place
its charm, for, though Mrs. Wilkins threatened to take her infants'
noses off if they got out of bed again, or "put 'em in the kettle
and bile 'em" they evidently knew no fear, but gambolled all the
nearer to her for the threat; and she beamed upon them with such
maternal tenderness and pride that her homely face grew beautiful in
Christie's eyes.
When the baby was bundled up in a blanket and about to be set down
before the stove to simmer a trifle before being put to bed,
Christie held out her arms, saying with an irresistible longing in
her eyes and voice:
"Let me hold her! I love babies dearly, and it seems as if it would
do me more good than quarts of tea to cuddle her, if she'll let me."
"There now, that's real sensible; and mother's bird'll set along
with you as good as a kitten. Toast her tootsies wal, for she's
croupy, and I have to be extra choice of her."
"How good it feels!" sighed Christie, half devouring the warm and
rosy little bunch in her lap, while baby lay back luxuriously,
spreading her pink toes to the pleasant warmth and smiling sleepily
up in the hungry face that hung over her.
Mrs. Wilkins's quick eyes saw it all, and she said to herself, in
the closet, as she cut bread and rattled down a cup and saucer:
"That's what she wants, poor creeter; I'll let her have a right nice
time, and warm and feed and chirk her up, and then I'll see what's
to be done for her.
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