somebody can help him.
It would be so dedful sad if him was to get shuttened up like poor
little mother, and perhaps you'd all go away ac'oss the sea and nebber
find him."

The corners of his mouth went down at this sorrowful picture, and his
eyes looked as if they were beginning to think about crying. But mother
and Celia set to work petting and kissing him before the tears had time
to come.

"As if we would ever go across the sea without _him_," said mother.

"Why, we should never know how to do _anything_ without Herr Baby," said
Celia.

"Fritz and Baby will do all the fussy things in travelling--taking the
tickets, and counting the luggage, and all that--they're such big men,
aren't they?" said Denny, with mischief in her twinkling green eyes.

"Now you, just mind what you're about," said Fritz, gallantly. "You'll
make him cry just when mother's been comforting him up. Such stupids
girls are!" he added in a lower voice.

"I really must go now," said mother, getting up from her chair. "Auntie
will not know what has become of me. I have been up here, why a whole
half hour, instead of five minutes!"

"Auntie will think mother's got shut up in a trunk again," said Denny,
whose tongue _never_ could be still for long, and at this piece of wit
they all burst out laughing.

All but Herr Baby. He couldn't see that it was any laughing matter.
Mother's story had sunk deep into his mind. Trunks were things to be
careful of. Baby saw this clearly.

CHAPTER III.

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY

"Sweet, eager promises bind him to this,
Never to do so again."

He woke early next morning. He had so much to think of, you see. So much
that even his dreams were full of all he had heard yesterday.

"Him's been d'eaming him was in the big, big, 'normous boat, and zen him
d'eamed of being shuttened up in a t'unk like _poor_ little mother," he
confided to Denny.

He was forced to tell Denny a good many things, because they slept in
the same room, and, of course, everybody knows that _whatever_ mammas
and nurses say, going-to-sleep-in-bed time is _the_ time for talking.
Waking-up-in-the-morning time is rather tempting, too, particularly in
summer, when the sun comes in at the windows _so_ brightly and the birds
are _so_ lively, chattering away to each other, and all the world is up
and about, except "_us_," who _have_ to stay in bed till seven o'clock!
Ah, it _is_ a trial! On the whole, I don't think chattering