s 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