et, and dress yourself.
What are you crying for?"

"Well, I feelsh bad."

"Well, dress yourself, and you'll feel better."

"Wantsh YOU to djesh me."

"Bring me your clothes, then--quick!"

Again the tears flowed copiously. "Don't WANT to bring 'em," said
Toddie.

"Then come here!" I shouted, dragging him across the room, and
snatching up his tiny articles of apparel. I had dressed no small
children since I was rather a small boy myself, and Toddie's clothing
confused me somewhat. I finally got something on him, when a
contemptuous laugh from Budge interrupted me.

"How you goin' to put his shirt on under them things?" queried my
oldest nephew.

"Budge," I retorted, "how are you going to get any breakfast if you
don't put on something besides that stocking?"

The young man's countenance fell, and just then the breakfast bell
rang. Budge raised a blank face, hurried to the head of the stairs and
shouted:--

"Maggie?"

"What is it, Budge?"

"Was--was that the rising-bell or the breakfast-bell?"

"'Twas the breakfast-bell."

There was dead silence for a moment, and then Budge shouted:--

"Well, we'll call that the risin'-bell. You can ring another bell for
breakfast pretty soon when I get dressed." Then this volunteer adjuster
of household affairs came calmly back and commenced dressing in good
earnest, while I labored along with Toddie's wardrobe.

"Where's the button-hook, Budge?" said I.

"It's--I--oh--um--I put it--say, Tod, what did you do with the
button-hook yesterday?"

"Didn't hazh no button-hook," asserted Toddie.

"Yes, you did; don't you remember how we was a playin' draw teef, an'
the doctor's dog had the toofache, and I was pullin' his teef with the
button-hook, an' you was my little boy, an' I gived the toof-puller to
you to hold for me? Where did you put it?"

"I'D no," replied Toddie, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing
out a sickly-looking toad.

"Feel again," said I, throwing the toad out the window, where it was
followed by an agonizing shriek from Toddie. Again he felt, and his
search was rewarded by the tension screw of Helen's sewing-machine.
Then I attempted some research myself, and speedily found my fingers
adhering to something of a sticky consistency. I quickly withdrew my
hand, exclaiming:--

"What nasty stuff HAVE you got in your pocket, Toddie?"

"'Taint nashty' tuff--it's byead an' 'lasses, an' its nice, an' Budge
an' me hazh little tea-parties in de k