selfish, ugly little thing, I declare I hate you. I'll just wrap you up in a shawl, and drop you somewhere. Oh, you lit—tle wr—r—retch, I should like to shake you."
Suiting the action to the word, Prudence pounced on the baby, and shook it till its big cap fell quite off, and its head wobbled.
Augusta was terrified, and began to howl lustily. She was so small, so helpless, that a certain revulsion of pity came over Prudence. She ceased shaking, and tried to soothe her.
"There now! there now!" she exclaimed, exactly as if speaking to a real baby, "don't cry. I'll see what can be done. I suppose you took an overdose. Will you try and put up your hand if you did?"
The baby put up its hand.
"Does it hurt? do you feel bad?"
The baby shook its bald head, and made an ineffectual attempt to demonstrate that its sufferings were chiefly mental.
"Now will you just be quiet and cease crying, and let me think it all over. Try to go to sleep if you can. Perhaps some of it may wear off, and you'll be bigger by and bye."
Tucking the baby up in bed, Prudence began restlessly to pace the room, pausing
