tie to stop every minute to look at something
wonderful. The carts drawn by oxen pleased him and Baby very much.

"That's the working cows they told us about," said Fritz. "They're very
nice, but I think I like horses best, don't you, Baby?"

"No, him likes cows best," said Baby, "when him's a man him will have a
calliage wif hundreds of cows to pull it along, and wif lots and lots of
gold bells all tinkling. Won't that be lubly?"

"Not half so nice as a lot of ponies, all with bells," said Fritz,
"they'd make ever so much more jingling, 'cos they go so fast. Isn't it
funny to see all the women with handkerchers on their heads and no
bonnets, Baby?"

"When him's a man," said Baby again--he was growing more talkative
now--"when him's a man, him's going to have auntie and Lisa," auntie and
Lisa came first, of course, because they happened to be in his sight,
"and mother, and Celia, and Denny _all_ for his wifes, and them shall
all wear most bootly hankerwifs on them's heads, red and blue and pink
and every colour, and gold--lots of gold."

"Thank you," said auntie, "but by that time my hair, for one, will be
quite gray; I shall be quite an old woman. I don't think such splendid
trappings would suit me."

"Him said _handkerwifs_, not traps--him doesn't know what traps is,"
said Baby. "And him will be werry kind to you when you're old. Him will
always let you come in and warm yourself, and give you halfpennies."

"Thank you, dear, I'm sure you will," said auntie. But she and Fritz
looked at each other. That was one of Herr Baby's ideas, and they
couldn't get him to understand, so mother settled it was better to
leave it and he'd understand of himself when he grew bigger. He thought
that _everybody_, however rich and well off they might be, had to grow
quite, quite poor, and to beg for pennies in the streets before they
died. Wasn't it a funny fancy? It was not till a good while afterwards
that mother found out that what had made him think so was the word
"old." He couldn't understand that growing old could mean only growing
old in years--he thought it meant as well, poor and worn-out, like his
own little old shoes. Just now it would have been no good trying to
explain, even if mother had quite understood what was in his mind, which
she didn't till he told her himself long after. For it only made him cry
when people tried to explain and _he_ couldn't explain what he meant.
There was nothing vexed him so much! And I th