o she may achieve her purpose without loss of
self-respect.

Lulla's beloved nurse is a motherly woman, older than most of our
workers. Her name is Annamai. When the nurses return from church, each
makes straight for her baby; and the babies always respond with a
cordial and pretty affection. But Lulla welcoming Annamai is something
more than pretty. The big white-robed figure no sooner appears in the
garden than the tiny Lulla is all a-quiver with excitement. But it is a
quiet excitement; and if you take any notice, the tentacles suddenly
draw in, and the little face is as wax. If no one seems to notice, then
Lulla lets herself go. She all but dances in her eagerness, while
Annamai is slowly sailing up the walk; and when she reaches the
verandah, Lulla can wait no longer; one spring and she is in her arms,
nestling, cuddling, burying her curls in her neck; then looking up
confidentially, little Lulla begins to talk; everything we have done and
said is being whispered into Annamai's ear. It does not matter that
Lulla cannot yet speak any language known to men; she can make Annamai
understand, and that is all she cares. Once we remember watching her, as
she took the remnant of a sweet we had given her, out of her mouth and
poked it into Annamai's. Could love do more?

Dimples and Lulla are quite inseparable. Lulla is to Dimples what Tara
is to Evu. She immensely admires her vigorous little junior, and tries
to copy her whenever possible. One delicious game seems to have been
suggested by the arches in the garden. Dimples and Lulla stand on all
fours close together. Then they lean over till their heads touch the
ground, and look through the arch. If you are on the babies' level (that
is on the floor), you will enjoy this game.

Another Sunday morning entertainment is kissing. Dimples advances upon
Lulla. Lulla falls upon Dimples. Then Dimples hugs Lulla, nearly chokes
her, almost certainly overturns her. The two roll over and over like
kittens. Dimples seizes Lulla by her curls and vehemently kisses face,
neck, and anything else she can get at; and then backs off, propelling
herself on two feet and one hand, in which position she looks like a
puppy on three paws. Lulla smooths her ruffled curls and person
generally, regards Dimples with gravity, and, if in an affectionate
humour herself, leads the attack upon Dimples, and the programme is
repeated.

But the joy of the hour is to spin in the hammocks. These contrivance