Now."

"But Aunt Woggles has got something for you," I said in a triumphant
voice.

Sara showed no interest and pulled me by the hand toward the door.

"Hand me that, Betty," I said, pointing to the parcel on the table.

Betty handed it to me.

"Here, Sara," I said, "I have got a darling white rabbit for you! Sara! A
bunny!"

"Yaya's got a blush upstairs, a lubbly blush," she said, disdaining even
to look at the parcel. I held it toward her, undid it, I squeaked the
squeak, I called the rabbit endearing names; but to no purpose. Sara
looked the other way. A look I at last persuaded her to bestow upon the
rabbit; but she gazed at its charms, unmoved.

"Yaya doesn't yike nasty bunnies, only nice blushes," she said.

"It's a hearth-brush dressed up," whispered Betty, "and it's dressed up
in my dolly's cape, at least in one of my dolly's capes; she loves it.
Aunt Woggles, do you think it is a good thing to make hearth-brushes say
their prayers? Sara does."

I followed Sara disconsolately to the nursery and was shown the beauties
of the "lubbly blush."

Nannie bemoaned her darling's taste, and the nursery-maid blushed for
very shame.

"Not but what it's quite clean, miss," Nannie said; "it's been
thoroughly washed in carbolic."

Meanwhile Sara was rocking herself backward and forward in a manner
truly maternal and singing her version of "Jesus Tender" to her "lubbly
blush."

"I thought she would love the rabbit," I said, and Nannie, by way of
consolation, assured me that there was really nothing Sara loved so
much as a rabbit. I suppose Nannie knew, and that it was only another
instance of the folly of judging from appearances.

"You will love your bunny, won't you, darling?" said Nannie; "nice
bunny!"

"Nasty bunny," said Sara with great decision.

"That's naughty, baby," said Nannie; "nice bunny!"

"Naughty bunny," said Sara, "vake Yaya's yubbly vitty blush." And she
resumed her singing with religious fervor.

Nannie was really quite upset, and apologized for her charge. I accepted
the apology and resolved then and there to send the despised rabbit
to the Children's Hospital by the next post. Have you ever given a
toy-balloon to a child, and had the child say, "Balloons don't amuse?" I
have.

Nannie then, by way of consolation, suggested that Sara should say her
prayers at my knee. It was the greatest compliment she could pay
any one. Sara consented after much pressure, and she knelt down and
pro