"Sash, he means," said Budge. "He's awful proud."
"An' Ize doin' to wear my takker-hat," said Toddie. "An' my wed
djuvs."
"That's his tassel-hat an' his red gloves," continued the
interpreter.
"Toddie, you can't wear gloves such hot days as these," said I.
A look of inquiry was speedily followed by Toddie's own
unmistakable preparations for weeping; and as I did not want his
eyes dimmed when his mother looked into them I hastily exclaimed:--
"Put them on, then--put on the mantle of rude Boreas, if you
choose; but don't go to crying."
"Don't want no mantle-o'-wude-bawyusses," declared Toddie,
following me phonetically, "wantsh my own pitty cozhesh, an'
nobody eshesh."
"O Uncle Harry!" exclaimed Budge, "I want to bring mamma home in
my goat-carriage!"
"The goat isn't strong enough, Budge, to draw mamma and you."
"Well, then, let me drive down to the depot just to SHOW papa an'
mamma I've got a goat-carriage--I'm sure mamma would be very
unhappy when she found out I had one, and she hadn't seen it first
thing."
"Well, I guess you may follow me down, Budge, but you must drive
very carefully."
"Oh, yes--I wouldn't get us hurt when mamma was coming, for
ANYthing." "Now, boys," said I, "I want you to stay in the house
and play this morning. If you go out of doors you'll get
yourselves dirty.
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