dearest
cat!"

"It seems to me you like very funny things," Gladys remarked. She
announced, however, that she intended to call.

What with getting the traveller ready to start and moving into their new
quarters, those were busy days. They were all three very cheerful
indeed, making a great many jokes and talking about next summer, when
they should be together again, saying nothing of the long winter that
stretched between.

It was a mistake to think of Hawaii as so far away. Had it not been
annexed? Two thousand miles from California was simply no distance at
all in these days. When it came to saying good-by it was hard indeed to
remember all this, but it was gone through with somehow, and one bright
October day Frances and her mother found themselves alone in their new
sitting room.

"Oh, mother, I wish you wouldn't cry!" sobbed Frances.

"But you are crying yourself," said Mrs. Morrison, half laughing. At
this tearful moment there came a knock at the door, and a long heavy
package was handed in.

"There must be some mistake," Mrs. Morrison said, drying her eyes and
reading the address, which was, however, unmistakable.

They made haste to cut the twine, and behold, a beautiful rug! "Isn't
this like that dear, extravagant Jack?" she cried. "Isn't it pretty,
Wink? He thought we'd need cheering up!"

Chairs and tables must be pushed aside at once and the rug put in place.
Frances had just sat down in the middle of it with great satisfaction,
when through the half-open door walked the fattest, rosiest baby
imaginable, wearing a very clean blue check apron and an affable smile.

"Why, where did you come from?" they both exclaimed.

This was evidently something he did not care to reveal, for, although he
continued to smile and gaze about him with interest, he made no reply.

[Illustration: "'What is your name, baby?'"]

"What is your name, baby?" Frances asked, holding out her hands.
"Dennyleebon,"--or so it sounded.

"Do you suppose that is intended for English?" said Mrs. Morrison.

"I don't know. Make him say something else. Baby, can you talk?"

"Tock," repeated the infant, pointing to the mantel.

"Yes," cried Frances, delighted, "it is a clock. You see, mother, he
thought I said clock. That is English."

"You don't mean it! But let him alone, Wink, and see what he will do."

The visitor showed plainly that he had a mind of his own. He did not
wish to be petted and kissed, but preferred to walk a