ut he was a patient soul,
and made no outcry.

Rosie snuggled up to him affectionately. "Say, Daddy," she whispered,
"if I was awful bad, what would you do to me? Wouldn't you just beat
me?"

Jamie relit his pipe, took one puff, examined the sky line, then shook
his head knowingly: "I would that! But, Rosie dear, you mustn't be bad,
you know."

Rosie took a long, shivery breath. "Oh, Daddy, please don't beat me!
I'll be good, honest I will!"

CHAPTER XVIII

ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES

Midsummer came and with it a great suffocating blanket of heat which
brought prostration to the world at large and to little Rosie O'Brien a
new care and a great anxiety.

"I don't mind about myself," she murmured one breathless sultry morning
as she served George Riley his late breakfast. Even George, who paid
scant attention to weather, looked worn and pale.

Rosie sat down opposite him as he began eating and stared at him out of
eyes that were very sad and very serious.

"It's Geraldine, Jarge. I don't know what I'm going to do. The poor
birdie was awake nearly all night. I hope you didn't hear us. I don't
want to disturb you, too."

George shook his head. "Oh, I slept all right. I always do. But it was
so blamed hot that when I got up I felt weak as a cat." He bolted a
knifeful of fried potatoes, then asked: "What's ailing Geraldine? Ain't
her food agreeing with her?"

Rosie sighed. It was the sigh of a little mother who had been asking
herself that same question over and over. "It's partly that; but I
think the food would be all right if only other things were all right.
You're a man, Jarge, so you don't understand about babies. It's
Geraldine's second summer and she's teething. Her poor little mouth's
all swollen and feverish. It would be bad enough in cold weather, but in
this heat she hardly gets a wink of sleep.... I tell you, Jarge, if we
don't do something for her real quick, she's just going to die!" Rosie
dropped her head on the table and wept.

"Aw, now, 'tain't that bad, is it, Rosie?"

"Yes." The answer came muffled in tears. "It's just awful, Jarge, the
way they go down. They'll be perfectly well, and then before you know
what's happening they just wilt, and you can't do anything for them. And
if Geraldine dies, I--I want to die too!"

"Aw, Rosie, cheer up! She ain't going to die!" George's words were brave
but his face was troubled. "I suppose, now, if she was only in the
country, she'd be all ri