Budge & Toddie; Or, Helen's Babies at Play. Habberton John

      “SPLASHIN’ IN THE BATHTUB”

      “Did they put on their rubbers fyst? ’Cause if they didn’t there must have been lots of little boys spanked when they got across for gettin’ their shoes muddy.”

      “I don’t know about that,” said Budge, after a slight pause for reflection. “I must ’member to ask papa about that. But when they all got over they began to grumble some more, for along came Pharaoh’s army right after ’em.”

      “I fink they was a lot of good-for-nothing cry-babies,” Toddie exclaimed.

      “Huh!” grunted Budge. “I guess you’d have yowled if you’d have been trudgin’ along through the mud ever so long, an’ then seen some soldiers an’ chariots an’ spears an’ bows an’ arrows comin’ to kill you. But the Lord knew just how to manage. He always did. Papa says He always comes in when you think He can’t. He said to Moses, ‘Lift up your cane an’ point it across the ocean again.’s An’ Moses done it, an’ down came that big fence of water on both sides kerswosh! An’ it drownded old Pharaoh an’ the whole good-for-nothin’ lot.”

      “Then did the Izzyrelites go to cryin’ some more?”

      “Not much! They all got together an’ had a big sing.”

      “I know what they sung,” said Toddie. “They all sung ‘TurnbackPharo’army-hallelujah.’ ”

      “No, they didn’t,” said Budge. “They sung that splendid thing mamma sings sometimes, ‘Sound the—loud tim—brel o’er—Egypt’—Egypt’ dark——’ ”

      Budge had with great difficulty repeated the line of the glorious old anthem, then he broke down and burst out crying.

      “What’s you cryin’ about?” asked Toddie. “Is you playin’ you’s an Izzyrelite?”

      “No,” said Budge; “but whenever I think about that song, somethin’ comes up in my throat and makes me cry.”

      The door of the room flew open, there was a rustle and a hurried tread, and Mrs. Burton, her face full of tears, snatched Budge to her breast, and kissed him repeatedly, while Toddie remarked:

      “When fings come up in my froat I just fwallows ’em.”

      Mrs. Burton conducted her nephews to the parlor floor, and said:

      “Now, little boys, it’s nearly lunch time, and I am going to have you nicely washed and dressed, so that if any one comes in you will look like little gentlemen.”

      “Ain’t we to be punished any more for bein’ bad?” asked Budge.

      “No,” said Mrs. Burton, kindly; “I’m going to trust you to remember and be good.”

      “That isn’t what bothers me,” said Budge; “I told a great, long Bible story to Tod up-stairs, so’s to be like big folks when they get bad, as much as I could. But Tod didn’t tell any; I don’t think he’s got his punish.”

      “He may tell his to-night, after Uncle Harry gets home,” said Mrs. Burton.

      “An’ sit in a chair in the corner of the up-stairs room?” asked Budge.

      “I hardly think that will be necessary this time,” answered the lady.

      “Then I don’t think you punish fair a bit,” said Budge, with an aggrieved pout.

      “I’ll be dzust as sad as I can ’bout it, Budgie,” said Toddie, with a brotherly kiss.

      The boys were led off by the chambermaid to be dressed and Mrs. Burton seated herself and devoted herself to earnest thought. Time was flying, her husband had been between dark and breakfast-time most exasperatingly solicitous as to the success of his wife’s theories of government, and not even her genius of self-defense had prevailed against him. She felt that so far she had been steadily vanquished. Her husband had told her in other days that it was always so with the best generals in their first engagements, so she determined that if men had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, she should be able to do so as well. Her desperation at the thought of a long lifetime of “I told you so’ ” from her husband made her determine that no discomfort should prevent the most earnest endeavor for success.

      The luncheon bell aroused her from what had become a reverie in the valley of humiliation, and she found awaiting her at the table her nephews—Budge in a jaunty sailor-suit and Toddie in a clean dress and an immaculate white apron. An old experience caused her to promptly end some researches of Toddie’, instituted to discover whether his aunt’ dishes were really “turtle-pyates,” and an attempt by Budge to drop oysters in the mouth of the dog Terry, as he had seen his uncle do with bread-crusts in the morning, was forcibly brought to a close. Beyond the efforts alluded to, the children did nothing worse than people in good society often do at table. After luncheon, Mrs. Burton said:

      “Now, boys, this is Aunt Alice’s receptionday. I will probably have several calls, and every one will want to know about that dear little new baby, and you must be there to tell them. So you must keep yourselves very neat and clean. I know you wouldn’t like to see any dirty people in my parlor!”

      “Hatesh to shtay in parlors,” said Toddie. “Wantsh to go and get some jacks” (“Jack-in-the-pulpit”—a swamp plant).

      “Not to-day,” said Mrs. Burton, kindly, but firmly. “No one with nice white aprons ever goes for jacks. What would you think if you saw me in a swampy, muddy place, with a nice white apron on, hunting for jacks!”

      “Why, I’d fink you could bring home more’n me, ’cause your apron would hold the mosht,” Toddie replied.

      “I’ll tell you what,” said Budge, calling Toddie into a corner and whispering earnestly to him. The purity of Budge’s expression of countenance and the tender shyness with which he avoided her gaze when he noticed that it was upon him, caused Mrs. Burton to instinctively turn her head away, out of respect for what she believed to be a childish secret of some very tender order. Glancing at the couple again for only a second, she saw that Toddie, too, seemed rather less matter-of-fact than usual. Finally both boys started out of the doorway, Budge turning and remarking with inflections simply angelic:

      “Will be back pretty soon, Aunt Alice.”

      Mrs. Burton proceeded to dress; she idly touched her piano, until one lady after another called, and occupied her time. Suddenly, while trying to form a good impression on a very dignified lady of the old school, both boys marched into the parlor from the dining-room. Mrs. Burton motioned them violently away, for Budge’s trousers and Toddie’ apron were as dirty as they well could be. Neither boy saw the visitor, however, for she was hidden by one of the wings which held the folding-doors, so both tramped up to their aunt, while Budge exclaimed:

      “Folks don’t go to heaven the second day, anyhow, for we just dug up the bird to see, an’ he was there just the same.”

      “And dere wazh lots of little ants dere wiv him,” said Toddie. “Is dat ’cause dey want to got to hebben, too, an’ wantsh somebody wif wings to help ’em up?”

      “Budge!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, in chilling tones; “how did all this dirt come on your clothes?”

      “Why, you see,” said the boy, edging up confidentially to his aunt, and resting his elbows on her knee as he looked up into her face, “I couldn’t bear to put the dear little birdie in the ground again without sayin’ another little prayer. And I forgot to brush my knees off.”

      “Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, “you couldn’t have knelt down with your stomach and breast. How did you get your nice white apron so dirty?”

      Toddie looked at the apron and then at his aunt—looked at a picture or two, and then at the piano—followed the cornice-line with his eye, seemed suddenly to find what he was looking for, and replied:

      “Do you fink dat apron’s