with one voice, and the three big ones jumped up and ran to her, all pulling her at once.

"Mother, mother, do sit down in the rocking-chair and look comfortable," said Fritz.

"There's still some tea. You'll have a cup of our tea, won't you, mother?" said Celia.

"And some bread and honey," said Denny.

"It won't spoil your afternoon tea; don't say it will," said all together, for nothing would ever make them believe that when mother came up to the nursery at tea-time it could be allowed that she should not have a share of whatever there was.

"Such a good thing we had honey to-night," said Celia, who was busy cutting a very dainty piece of bread and butter. "We persuaded Lisa to give it us extra, you know, mother, because of the news. And, oh, mother, what do you think Baby says? he——"

"Baby! what is the matter with him?" interrupted mother.

They all turned to look at him. Poor Baby, he had set to work to get down from his chair to run to mother with the others, but the chair was high and Baby was short, and Lisa, who had gone to the cupboard for a fresh cup and saucer for "madame," as she called the children's mother, had not noticed the trouble Herr Baby had got himself into. One little leg and a part of his body were stuck fast in the open space between the bars at the back, his head had somehow got under the arm of the chair, and could not be got out again without help. And Baby was far too proud to call out for help as long as there was a chance of his doing without it. But he really was in a very uncomfortable state, and it was a wonder that the chair, which was a light wicker one, had not toppled over with the queer way in which he was hanging. They got him out at last; his face was very red, and I think the tears had been very near coming, but he choked them down, and looking up gravely he said to his mother,—

"Him's chair is getting too small. Him hasn't room to turn."

"Is it really?" said his mother, quite gravely too. She saw that Celia and Fritz were ready to burst out laughing at poor Baby, and she didn't want them to do so, for Baby had really been very brave, and now when he was trying hard not to cry it would have been too bad to laugh at him. "Is it really?" she said. "I must see about it, and if it is too small we must get you another."

"Him doesn't want you to pack up that chair," said Baby again, giving himself a sort of shake, as if to make sure that his head, and his legs, and all the rest of him, were in their proper places after being so turned about and twisted by his struggles in the chair.

"He's quite in a fuss about packing," said Celia; "that's what I was going to tell you, mother. He stopped in the middle of his tea to think about it, and he said he thought we'd better begin to-night."

"Yes," said Baby. "There's such lots to pack. All our toys, and the labbits, and the mouses, and the horses, and the fireplaces, and the tables, and the cups, and the saucers," his eyes wandering round the room as he went on with his list. "Him thinks we'll need lots of boats to go in."

"And two or three railway trains all to ourselves," said mother.

Baby looked up at her gravely. He could not make out if mother was in fun or earnest. His little puzzled face made mother draw him to her and give him a kiss.

"It's a shame to talk nonsense to such a serious little man," she said. "Don't trouble yourself about the packing, Baby dear. Don't you know grandfather, and auntie, and I have had lots of packings to do in our lives? Why, we had to pack up two houses when we came away from India, and that was much much farther away than where we're going now! And you were such a tiny baby then—it was very much harder, for mother was very very sad, and she never thought you would grow to be a big strong boy like what you are now."

"Was that when——" began thoughtless Denny, but Fritz gave her a tug.

"You know it makes mother unhappy to talk about that time," he whispered; but mother heard him.

"No, Fritz," she said; "I don't mind Denny thinking about it. I am so glad to have all of you, dears, happy and good, that my sorrow is not so bad as it was. And I am so glad you and Celia can remember your father. Poor Baby—he can't remember him," she said, softly stroking Baby's face.

"'Cos he went to Heaven when him was so little," said Baby. Then he put his arms round mother's neck. "Him and Fritz will soon grow big, and be werry good to mother," he said. "And ganfather and auntie are werry good to mother, isn't they?" he added.

"Yes indeed," said mother; "and to all of you too. What would we do without grandfather and auntie?"

"Some poor little boys and girls has no mothers and ganfathers, and no stockings and shoes, and no nothings," said Baby solemnly.

"There's some things I shouldn't mind not having," said Fritz; "I shouldn't mind having no lessons."

"O Fritz," said his sisters; "what a lazy boy you are!"

"No, I'm just not lazy. I'm awfully fond of doing everything—I don't even mind if it's a hard thing, so long as it isn't anything in books," said Fritz, sturdily. "Some people's made one way, and some's made another, and I'm made the way of not liking books."

"I wonder what Baby will say to books," said mother, smiling.

"Is jography in books," said Baby. "Him wants to learn jography."

"I think it's awfully stupid," said Denny. "I'm sure you won't like it once you begin. Did you like lessons when you were little, mother?"

"Yes, I'm sure mother did," said Fritz. "People's fathers and mothers were always far gooder than their children are. I've noticed that. If ever big people tell you about when they were little, it's always about how good they were. And they say always, 'Dear me, how happy children should be nowadays; we were never allowed to do so and so when we were little.' That's the way old Mrs. Nesbitt always talks, isn't it mother? I wonder if it's true. If people keep getting naughtier than their fathers and mothers were, the world will get very naughty some day. Is it true?"

"I think it's true that children get to be more spoilt," said Denny in a low voice. "Just look how Baby's clambering all over mother! O Baby, you nearly knocked over mother's cup! I never was allowed to do like that when I was a little girl."

Everybody burst out laughing—even mother—but Denny had the good quality of not minding being laughed at.

"Was the tea nice, and the bread and butter and honey?" she said eagerly, as mother rose to put the empty cup in a place of safety.

"Very nice, thank you," said mother. "But I must go, dears. I have a good many things to talk about with grandfather and auntie."

"Packing?" said Baby.

"How you do go on about packing!" said Denny. "Of course mother's not going to pack to-night."

Baby's face fell.

"Him does so want to begin packing," he said dolefully. "'Appose we forgottened somesing, and we was over the sea!"

"Well, I must talk about it all, and write down all we have to take," said mother. "So I must go to auntie now."

"Oh, not yet, not yet. Just five minutes more!" cried the children. "And, mother," said Celia, "you've not answered my question. Is it true that children used to be so much better long ago? Were you never naughty?"

"Sometimes," said mother, smiling.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" said Celia. "Often, mother? I do hope you were often naughty. Do tell us a story about something naughty you did when you were little. You know it would be a good lesson for us. It would show us how awfully good one may learn to be, for, you know, you're awfully good now."

"Yes, of course you are," said Fritz and Denny.

"Mother's dedfully good," said Baby, poking up his face from her knee where he had again perched himself, to kiss her. "Do tell him one story of when you was a