having hearing of him and not having cheese for him. I could hardly keep from crying. He is a most lovely wood-rat, and all his ways are ways of gentleness. And he is just like the mamma's baby—when he squeaks he does have expects to get what he squeaks for. I did cuddle him up more close in my arms. And he had not squeaks again for some little time. It was when I was talking to Sadie McKibben about the château of Neuilly that I do have most part done—it was then he did give his squeaks. He began and went on and did continue so. I just could n't keep from crying. His cheese longings are like my longings for Angel Mother and Angel Father. He did just crawl up and put his nose against my curls. I did stand first on one foot and then on the other. The things I was going to say did go in a swallow down my throat.
Sadie McKibben did wipe her hands on her blue gingham apron with cross stitches on it. She did have askings what was the matter with Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. And I just said, "O Sadie McKibben, it's his cheese squeak." And she said not a word, but she did go in a quick way to her kitchen. She brought back a piece of cheese. It wasn't a little piece. It was a great big piece. There's enough in it for four breakfasts and six dinners. When Sadie McKibben did give it to me for him, she did smooth back my curls and she did give me three kisses—one on each cheek and one on the nose. She smiled her smile upon us, and we
