The Adventures of Herr Baby. Molesworth Mrs.
said zem was werry good."
"Grandfather was joking," said Celia. "I've often heard him laugh at people that way. It's just nonsense – Thomas and Jones don't know any better. Do they eat frogs in your country, Lisa?"
"In mine country, Fräulein Célie?" said Lisa, looking rather vexed. "No indeed. Man eats goot, most goot tings, in mine country. Say, Herr Baby – Herr Baby knows what goot tings Lisa would give him in her country."
"Yes," said Baby, "such good tings. Tocolate and cakes – lots – and bootiful soup, all sweet, not like salty soup. Him would like werry much to go to Lisa's countly."
"Do cows pull carts in your country, Lisa?" asked Denny.
"Some parts. Not where mine family lives," said Lisa. "No, Fräulein Denny, it's not to mine country we're going. Mine country is it colt, so colt; and your lady mamma and your lady auntie they want to go where it is warm, so warm, and sun all winter."
"I should like that too," said Celia, "I hate winter."
"That's 'cos you're a girl," said Fritz; "you crumple yourself up by the fire and sit shivering – no wonder you're cold. You should come out skating like Denny, and then you'd get warm."
"Denny's a girl too. You said it was because I was a girl," said Celia.
"Well, she's not as silly as some girls, any way," said Fritz, rather "put down."
Baby was sitting silent. He had made an end of two cups of tea and five pieces of bread and butter.
He was not, therefore, quite so hungry as he had been at the beginning, but still he was a long way off having made what was called in the nursery a "good tea." Something was on his mind. He sat with one arm propped on the table, and his round head leaning on his hand, while the other held the piece of bread and butter – butter downwards, of course – which had been on its way to his mouth when his brown study had come over him.
"Herr Baby," said Lisa, "eat, mine child."
Baby took no notice.
"What has he then?" said Lisa, who was very easily frightened about her dear Herr Baby. "Can he be ill? He eats not."
"Ill," said Celia. "No fear, Lisa. He's had ever so much bread and butter. Don't you want any more, Baby? What are you thinking about? We're going to have honey on our last pieces to-night, aren't we, Lisa? For a treat, you know, because of the news of going away."
Celia wanted the honey because she was very fond of it; but besides that, she thought it would wake Baby out of his brown study to hear about it, for he was very fond of it too.
He did catch the word, for he turned his blue eyes gravely on Celia.
"Honey's werry good," he said, "but him's not at his last piece yet. Him doesn't sink he'll ever be at his last piece to-night; him's had to stop eating for he's so dedful busy in him's head."
"Poor little man, have you got a pain in your head?" said his sister, kindly. "Is that what you mean?"
"No, no," said Baby, softly shaking his head, "no pain. It's only busy sinking."
"What about?" said all the children.
Baby sat straight up.
"Children," he said, "him zeally can't eat, sinking of what a dedful packing there'll be. All of everysing. Him zeally sinks it would be best to begin to-night."
At this moment the door opened. It was mother. She often came up to the nursery at tea-time, and
"When the children had been good;
That is, be it understood,
Good at meal times, good at play,"
I need hardly say, they were very, very pleased to see her. Indeed there were times even when they were glad to see her face at the door when they hadn't been very good, for somehow she had a way of putting things right again, and making them feel both how wrong and how silly it is to be cross and quarrelsome, that nobody else had. And she would just help the kind words out without seeming to do so, and take away that sore, horrid feeling that one can't be good, even though one is longing so to be happy and friendly again.
But this evening there had been nothing worse than a little squabbling; the children all greeted mother merrily, only Baby still looked rather solemn.
CHAPTER II.
INSIDE A TRUNK
"For girls are as silly as spoons, dears,
And boys are as jolly as bricks.
* * * * *
Oh Mammy, you tell us a story! —
They won't hear a word that I say."
"Mother, mother!" they all cried with one voice, and the three big ones jumped up and ran to her, all pulling her at once.
"Mother, mother, do sit down in the rocking-chair and look comfortable," said Fritz.
"There's still some tea. You'll have a cup of our tea, won't you, mother?" said Celia.
"And some bread and honey," said Denny.
"It won't spoil your afternoon tea; don't say it will," said all together, for nothing would ever make them believe that when mother came up to the nursery at tea-time it could be allowed that she should not have a share of whatever there was.
"Such a good thing we had honey to-night," said Celia, who was busy cutting a very dainty piece of bread and butter. "We persuaded Lisa to give it us extra, you know, mother, because of the news. And, oh, mother, what do you think Baby says? he – "
"Baby! what is the matter with him?" interrupted mother.
They all turned to look at him. Poor Baby, he had set to work to get down from his chair to run to mother with the others, but the chair was high and Baby was short, and Lisa, who had gone to the cupboard for a fresh cup and saucer for "madame," as she called the children's mother, had not noticed the trouble Herr Baby had got himself into. One little leg and a part of his body were stuck fast in the open space between the bars at the back, his head had somehow got under the arm of the chair, and could not be got out again without help. And Baby was far too proud to call out for help as long as there was a chance of his doing without it. But he really was in a very uncomfortable state, and it was a wonder that the chair, which was a light wicker one, had not toppled over with the queer way in which he was hanging. They got him out at last; his face was very red, and I think the tears had been very near coming, but he choked them down, and looking up gravely he said to his mother, —
"Him's chair is getting too small. Him hasn't room to turn."
"Is it really?" said his mother, quite gravely too. She saw that Celia and Fritz were ready to burst out laughing at poor Baby, and she didn't want them to do so, for Baby had really been very brave, and now when he was trying hard not to cry it would have been too bad to laugh at him. "Is it really?" she said. "I must see about it, and if it is too small we must get you another."
"Him doesn't want you to pack up that chair," said Baby again, giving himself a sort of shake, as if to make sure that his head, and his legs, and all the rest of him, were in their proper places after being so turned about and twisted by his struggles in the chair.
"He's quite in a fuss about packing," said Celia; "that's what I was going to tell you, mother. He stopped in the middle of his tea to think about it, and he said he thought we'd better begin to-night."
"Yes," said Baby. "There's such lots to pack. All our toys, and the labbits, and the mouses, and the horses, and the fireplaces, and the tables, and the cups, and the saucers," his eyes wandering round the room as he went on with his list. "Him thinks we'll need lots of boats to go in."
"And two or three railway trains all to ourselves," said mother.
Baby looked up at her gravely. He could not make out if mother was in fun or earnest. His little puzzled face made mother draw him to her and give him a kiss.
"It's a shame to talk