ckers. Serve it to 'em hot, an'
jest set around blowin' it so it don't scald their little stummicks.
Got that? You can give 'em eggs, but not too much meat. Meat well done
an' cut up wi' vegetables an' gravy, an' make 'em eat it with a spoon.
Knives is apt to cut 'em. Eggs light boiled, an' don't let 'em rub the
yolk in their hair, nor slop gravy over their bow-ties. Candy, some,
but it ain't good for their teeth, which needs seein' to by a dentist,
anyway. Say, if they're cuttin' teeth you ken let 'em chew the beef
bones, it helps 'em thro'. Fancy canned truck ain't good 'less it's
baked beans, though I 'lows beans cooked reg'lar is best. You soak 'em
twenty-four hours, an' boil 'em soft, an' see the water don't boil
away. Fruit is good if they ain't subjec' to colic, which needs
poultices o' linseed, an' truck like that. Don't let 'em eat till
they're blown up like frogs, an'--you got all that?"

"Ye-es," replied the bewildered man a little helplessly.

"Well," continued the smiling girl, "then there's their manners an'
things."

Toby nodded vaguely.

"You'll need to give 'em bed at sundown," Birdie hurried on. "An' up
at sunrise. Clothes needs washin' at least once a month--with soap.
See they says their prayers, an' bath 'em once a week reg'lar--with
soap. But do it Sundays. An' after that give 'em a Bible talk for an
hour. Then I dessay they'll need physic once a week--best give it
Saturday nights. Don't fix 'em that way same as a horse, their
stummicks ain't made of leather. You got all that?"

Toby gave a bewildered nod.

"How 'bout when they're sick?" he asked.

"Sick? Why, see they don't muss their clothes," Birdie answered
cheerfully. "Guess that's put you wise to most everything."

"Sure." Toby slid from the table, feeling dazed. Nor had he the
courage to ask any more questions. He was trying hard to fix the
salient points of the information in his whirling brain, but all he
could remember was that all washing must be done with soap, and the
children must have bones to keep their teeth right. He clung to these
things desperately, and felt that he must get away quickly before
they, too, should slip through the sieve of his memory.

"Guess I'll git along an'--an' see to things," he murmured vaguely,
without glancing in Birdie's direction. "You said beef bones?" he
added, passing a hand perplexedly across his forehead.

"Sure," smiled the girl.

"Good. Thanks." Then he moved heavily off. "Beef bone