aintly in the roof, there came before his mind
the pictures of all they had left behind; he seemed to see the garden
and the trees _so_ plain, and he thought how very, very quiet and lonely
it must seem there now, and Baby's little heart grew sad. He felt so
sorry for all the things they had left--the rabbits and the pussy most
of all, of course, but even for the dear old trees, and the sweet,
"denkle" flowers in the garden; even for the tables and chairs in the
house he felt sorry.

"Him's poor little bed will be so cold and lonely," he said to himself.
"Him sinks going away is _werry_ sad."

CHAPTER V.

BY LAND AND SEA

"So the wind blew softly,
And the sun shone bright."

Grandfather had fixed that it would be best to go straight through at
once to the seaport, where, the next morning, they would find the
'normous boat waiting to take them over the sea. They had to pass
through London on the way, and, by the time they got to the big London
station, Baby was very tired--so white and quiet that mother was a
little frightened.

"I almost wish," she said, "that we had fixed to stay all night in
London. Baby has never had a long railway journey before, since he was a
_real_ Baby, you know, and he is not very strong."

She was speaking to auntie. It was just when they were getting near the
big London station. Auntie looked at Baby. He was lying on Lisa's knee
with his eyes shut, as if he were asleep, but he wasn't. He heard what
they said, and he was rather pleased at them talking about him. In
_some_ ways he was very fond of being made a fuss about.

"He does look a little white shrimp," said auntie. "But then you know,
May, he is so fair. He looks more quickly white if he is tired than
other children. And he has been such a good little man all day--not one
bit of trouble. He is really a capital traveller--_ever_ so much quieter
than the others."

She said these last few words in a low tone, not caring for the other
children to hear; but if she had spoken quite loud I don't think they
would have heard, and, indeed, it seemed as if they wanted to show that
auntie's words were true; for just at that moment there came such a
scream from Denny that everybody started up in a fright.

What _could_ be the matter? everybody asked.

"It's all Denny," said Fritz, in a great fuss.

"It's not; it's all Fritz and Celia," said Denny.

"It's both of them," said Celia. "Mother, I wish you wouldn't let th