THE MEMOIRS Of A BABY
Susy declared. "I don't know what to do. Belle is such a good girl, but she gets almost saucy to Aunt Emma sometimes, Tom. Wednesday she took him in the bath-room and sat with him there. I don't dare to seem to notice it, because I shall have to reprove Belle if I do."
"I gather that the kid that tolerated Handel's Largo (though with a quiver of his lip) didn't employ this kind of nurse?" Tom suggested.
"No, indeed. Aunt Emma read me what kind the nurse ought to be—it's in the front."
Susy searched for a passage in the blue book and read from it in the detached and mechanical manner she consecrated to everything but fiction.
"The aid of a trained kindergartner of inspiring personality, or of at least a refined and educated nursery maid, may be secured, if possible, very early in the life of a child. One, however, should be selected who has learned the value of repose."
"Oh, nonsense!" Mr. Wilbour interrupted. "This is all wrong, Toots! If there's one thing Belle hasn't got. . . . She carries out three abductions a day! The poor child's early recollections will be one continual Eliza-on-the-floating-cakes-of-ice kinetoscope. All we need is two Topsys and a bloodhound to—"
"Hush, Tom! And here's the end of the sen-
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