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III. Budge, the Interpreter On Monday morning I devoted myself to Toddie's expiatory bouquet, in which I had the benefit of my nephews' assistance and counsel, and took enforced part in the conversation. At two o'clock I instructed Maggie to dress my nephews, and at three we started to make our call. As we approached, I saw Miss Mayton on the piazza.
"That's his tassel-hat an' his red gloves," continued the interpreter. "Toddie, you can't wear gloves such hot days as these," said I. A look of inquiry was speedily followed by Toddie's own unmistakable preparations for weeping; and as I did not want his eyes dimmed when his mother looked into them I hastily exclaimed:
Such may not have been Toddie's line of thought, but his recent operations warranted such a supposition. He had cut out a number of pictures, and pasted them upon the wall of my room my sister's darling room, with its walls tinted exquisitely in pink.
Burton, averting her face, "and I want you to run home and ask how your mamma and baby-sister are. Don't stay long; remember that lunch will be earlier than usual to-day." Away went Budge, and Mrs. Burton devoted herself to thought and self-questioning. Unquestioning obedience had been her own duty since she could remember, yet she was certain that her will was as strong as Toddie's.
Just then two great hands seized Toddie's frock in front, and he disappeared with a howl, while I, with the first feeling of faintness I had ever experienced, went in search of hammer, nails, and some strips of board, to nail on the outside of the window-frame. But boards could not be found, so I went up to the play-room and began to knock a piece or two off the box which had done duty as whale.
Then this volunteer adjuster of household affairs came calmly back and commenced dressing in good earnest, while I labored along with Toddie's wardrobe. "Where's the button-hook, Budge?" said I. "It's I oh um I put it say, Tod, what did you do with the button-hook yesterday?" "Didn't hazh no button-hook," asserted Toddie.
"Why didn't you do it, then?" demanded the lady. "'Cauze he wouldn't grop," said Toddie; "he isn't all gropped yet." True enough, the claw of the fish still hung at Toddie's finger, and Mrs. Burton spoiled a pair of four-button kids in detaching it, while Budge continued to laugh.
Even this seemed too mild an offense to call for a rebuke, so I passed on without disturbing him, and went to my own room. I heard Toddie's voice, and having heard from my sister that Toddie's conversations with himself were worth listening to, I paused outside the door. I heard Toddie softly murmur:
"I should think your mother might buy you respectable dolls, and not let you appear in public with these loathsome rags." "We don't like buyed dollies," said Budge. "These dollies is lovely. Mine's got blue eyes and Toddie's has got brown eyes." "I want to shee your watch," remarked Toddie, snatching the chain and rolling into my lap. "Oh-oo-ee!
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