it wouldn't be nice for it to come
zeal," said Baby, who never forgot to look at things from both sides.

"No, of course it wouldn't. How stupid you are!" said Denny. "And how
your head does run on one thing. I'm quite tired of you talking about
mother being shut up in the trunk. Do talk of something else."

"Him can't talk of somesing else when him's sinking of one sing," said
Baby gravely.

"Well, then don't talk at all," said Denny sharply, "and indeed I think
we'd better be quiet, or Lisa will be coming in, and scolding us. It's
only half-past six."

Baby did not speak for a minute or two. Then he said solemnly,

"When us goes away ac'oss the sea in the 'normous boat, him _hopes_ him
won't sleep in the same zoom as you any more."

"I'm sure I hope not," said Denny snappishly. There was some excuse for
her this morning, she was really rather sleepy, and it is very tiresome
to be wakened up at half-past six, when one is quite inclined to sleep
till half-past seven.

But Baby could not go to sleep again. His mind was still running on
packing. If he could but have a _little_ box of his own to pack his own
treasures in, then he would be sure none would be forgotten. He did not
want a _big_ trunk--not one in which he could be shuttened up like
mother, but just a nice little one. If mother would give him one!
Stay--where had he seen one, just what he wanted, was it in the nursery
or in the cupboard where Fritz kept his garden-tools and his skates, and
all the big boy things which Baby too hoped to have of his own some day?
No, it was not there. It must have been--yes, it was in the pantry when
he went to ask James for a glass of water. Up on a shelf, high up it
stood, "a tiny _sweet_ little t'unk," said Herr Baby to himself,
"wouldn't mother let him have it?" He would ask her this morning as soon
as he saw her. Then he lay still and thought over to himself all the
things he would pack in the tiny sweet little t'unk; his best Bible with
his name

"Raymond Arthur Aylmer,"

in the gold letters on the back, should have the nicest corner, of
course, and his "_scented_ purse," as he called the Russia leather purse
which grandfather had given him on his last birthday, that would go
nicely beside the Bible, and his watch that _really_ ticked as long as
you turned the key in it--all those things would fit in, nicely packed
in "totton wool," of course, and crushy paper. The thought of it all
made Baby's fingers fidget wi