to Floss they were lovely, only, they
were _only_ dolls!

Can you fancy, can you in the least fancy, Floss's delight--a sort of
delight that made her feel as if she couldn't speak, when one winter's
morning she was awakened by nurse to be told that a real live baby had
come in the night--a little brother, and "such a funny little fellow,"
added nurse, "his head just covered with curly red hair. Where did he
get that from, I wonder? Not one of my children has hair like that,
though yours, Miss Flossie, has a touch of it, perhaps."

Floss looked at her own tangle of fluffy hair with new reverence. "Hair
something like my hairs," she whispered. "Oh nursie, dear nursie, may
Floss see him?"

"Get up and let me dress you quickly, and you shall see him--no fear but
that you'll see more of the poor little fellow than you care about,"
said nurse, though the last words were hardly meant for Floss.

The truth was that though of course every one meant to be kind to this
new little baby, to take proper care of him, and all that sort of thing,
no one was particularly glad he had come. His father and mother felt
that five boys and girls were already a good number to bring up well and
educate and start in life, not being very rich you see, and even nurse,
who had the very kindest heart in the world, and had taken care of them
all, beginning with Jack, ever since they were born, even nurse felt, I
think, that they _could_ have done without this red-haired little
stranger. For nurse was no longer as young as she had been, and as the
children's mother could not, she knew, very well afford to keep an
under-nurse to help her, it was rather trying to look forward to
beginning again with all the "worrit" of a new baby--bad nights and many
tiring climbs up the long stairs to the nursery, etc., etc., though
nurse was so really good that she did not grumble the least bit, and
just quietly made up her mind to make the best of it.

But still Floss was the only person to give the baby a really hearty
welcome. And by some strange sort of baby instinct he seemed to know it
almost from the first. He screamed at Jack, and no wonder, for Jack, by
way of salutation, pinched his poor little nose, and said that the next
time they had boiled mutton for dinner, cook need not provide anything
but turnips, as there was a fine crop of carrots all ready, which piece
of wit was greatly applauded by Maurice and the girls. He wailed when
Cecil and Louise begg