New York, while such delightful rural homes were so near at
hand. Then Alice Mayton came into my mind, and then a customer; later,
stars and trademarks, and bouquets, and dirty nephews, and fireflies
and bad accounts, and railway tickets, and candy and Herbert Spencer,
mixed themselves confusingly in my mind. Then a vision of a proud
angel, in the most fashionable attire and a modern carriage, came and
banished them all by its perfect radiance, and I was sinking in the
most blissful unconsciousness--

"Ah--h--h--h--h--h--oo--oo--oo--oo--ee--ee--ee--"

"Sh--h--h!" I hissed.

The warning was heeded, and I soon relapsed into oblivion.

"Ah--h--h--h--oo--oo--ee--ee--ee--BE--ee."

"Toddie, do you want uncle to whip you?"

"No."

"Then lie still."

"Well, Ize lost my dolly, an' I tant find her anywhere."

"Well, I'll find her for you in the morning."

"Oo--oo--ee--I wants my dolly."

"Well, I tell you I'll find her for you in the morning."

"I want her NOW--oo--oo--"

"You can't have her now, so you can go to sleep."

"Oh--oo--oo--oo--ee--"

Springing madly to my feet, I started for the offender's room. I
encountered a door ajar by the way, my forehead being first to discover
it. I ground my teeth, lit a candle, and said something--no matter what.

"Oh, you said a bad swear!" ejaculated Toddie. "You won't go to heaven
when you die."

"Neither will you, if you howl like a little demon all night. Are you
going to be quiet, now?"

"Yesh, but I wants my dolly."

"_I_ don't know where your dolly is--do you suppose I'm going to search
this entire house for that confounded dolly?"

"'TAIN'T 'founded. I wants my dolly."

"I don't know where it is; you don't think I stole your dolly, do you?"

"Well, I wants it, in de bed wif me."

"Charles," said I, "when you arise in morning, I hope your doll will be
found. At present, however, you must be resigned and go to sleep. I'll
cover you up nicely;" here I began to rearrange the bed-clothing, when
the fateful dolly, source of all my woes, tumbled out of them. Toddie
clutched it, his whole face lighting up with affectionate delight, and
he screamed:--

"Oh, dare is my dee dolly: tum to your own papa, dolly, an' I'll love
you."

And that ridiculous child was so completely satisfied by his outlay of
affection that my own indignation gave place to genuine artistic
pleasure. One CAN tire of even beautiful pictures, though, when he is
not fully awake, and is hol