spotlessly clean, baby!

The baby was Mrs. Kukor's grandson, the lady was Mrs. Kukor's daughter,
for "Mama!" cried the young mother; and as they met just in front of
Johnnie there was an explosive outburst of talk in a strange tongue, and
much of what Johnnie afterwards described to Cis as "double kissin',"
that is, a kissing on both cheeks, the baby coming in for his share and
weeping over it forlornly.

Greeting done, Mrs. Kukor introduced Johnnie. "Eva," she beamed, "from
long you have hear Mama speakink over Chonnie Schmitt. Und--here wass!"

Fortunately Johnnie's right hand was clean. So was his smiling face.
"Oh, Mrs. Reisenberger, I thank you for the tel'phone-d'rect'ry," he
began gratefully, as the two shook hands.

Mrs. Reisenberger was staring at his rags. Also, she was now holding the
baby well up and back. "Oh, I don't like it that my Mama should live
down here," she declared. "She can live swell in the Bronx with Jake and
me."

Now Johnnie stared--miserably. For her words were like a sickening blow.
What if Mrs. Kukor were to leave? What would he do without her?

"I like I should live always by mine own place," asserted Mrs. Kukor.
And to Johnnie, as she plucked a bit of Mrs. Reisenberger's skirt
between a thumb and finger, "Look, Chonnie! All from silks!"

Then she led the way higher, while heads popped out of doors all up and
down the house; and Mrs. Reisenberger puffed after her, like some sort
of a sweet-smelling, red-and-white engine. "Oh, Mama," expostulated the
other between breaths as she toiled to that last floor, "how I wish you
should come to live with Jake and me!"

Mrs. Reisenberger was excitement enough for one day. But on the day
following nothing happened, nor on the day after that. And gradually
Johnnie's hope began to lessen, his faith to ooze.

By the end of a week, the young man with the eyeglasses scarcely seemed
real, so that when Cis gently suggested that Johnnie had never met any
leader, he was hardly able to protest that he had. By the end of a
fortnight, his newest friend merged with that unsubstantial company made
up of David, Aladdin, Uncas and all the rest. Then Johnnie took to
telephoning him over the clothesline. Also, when Cis was home, the scout
leader had a part in all those elaborate social functions she enjoyed,
such as dances, and calling, and shopping.

These days, Johnnie again wore the apron, and neglected the soap and the
comb and the brushing. Ah, it had