m?"

The girl thought for a moment, and then looked up brightly.

"If they was Zip's kids--"

"I said they ain't."

"Well, if they were, I'd say--"

"See here, cut Zip's kids out. They ain't in this shootin' match,"
cried Sandy testily.

But Birdie persisted slyly.

"Y'see, I must get some kids in my eye if I'm to answer you right,"
she said. "I can see things better that way. Now, if they were Zip's
kids--"

"Which they ain't," asseverated the man doggedly.

"Which they ain't," nodded Birdie, "I'd feed 'em cereals an' pap--"

Sandy's face suddenly cleared. His whole being seemed to expand.

"Say, you're a bright gal," he declared. "Cereals an' pap. That's dead
right. Say, you know more than--You'd give 'em milk to drink--now?" he
suggested.

"Oh no, nothing like that. Water."

The man looked disappointed.

"Water?" he said. "You sure of that? But I guess you'd give 'em
banannys?"

Again the girl shook her head.

"Fruit gives 'em colic."

"Ah, yes, that's so. They'd need physic then, wouldn't they?"

"You need to be easy with physic, too," declared the girl, with
sparkling eyes. "Don't give 'em physic ever unless they're real
sick."

The man's crestfallen appearance set Birdie giggling. She was enjoying
the situation. She meant to upset all Sandy's preconceived ideas.

"Now, pork?" he suggested, but with less assurance.

But Birdie was obdurate.

"Never," she declared emphatically. "Beans, yes. There's good
nourishment in beans. Then ther's fresh vegetables--heaps of 'em."

"Ah! Now, how 'bout fixin' them right--the kids, I mean? Guess they'll
need bathin'."

But Birdie fell upon him with a strong denial.

"Bath?" she cried. "Gee! you do run on. Guess you want to hand 'em
newmony. Kids sure don't never need bathin'. Jest a lick with soap an'
hot water once a week. An' say," she went on, suddenly remembering
something she had told Toby in a fit of mischief, "kep their food
soft, or you'll break their young teeth."

Sandy's eyes lit, and in an unguarded moment he admitted that the
thought had occurred to him. Birdie caught him up at once.

"I tho't you was just astin' me these questions to see if I was right
for gettin' married?" she protested innocently.

"That's so--course," he said hastily. Then he wriggled out of it. "But
how'd I be able to say you was right if I hadn't tho't on things some
myself?"

"Ah! I didn't just think of that."

"Course not. Gals never see the fine poin