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"Hope so," said Mr. Martin. "I'm a duckle, Little-sing; ain't I, Victoria?" Here he chuckled the good lady under the chin. "Ah, and so this is Maggie? How do, my dear? How do, Popsy-wopsy?" "How do you do?" said Maggie. "Come, come," said Mr. Martin. "No flights and vapors, no fine airs, no affected, mincing ways. A little girl should love her new parent. A little girl should kiss her new parent."
Martin drank his tea with huge gulps, ate a quantity of muffins, pooh-poohed the gooseberries as not worth his attention, and then said, "Now, Victoria, my dearest dear, I am ready to propound my scheme to your offspring. Come forward, Popsy-wopsy, and listen to what new pa intends to do for you." Maggie rose, feeling that her limbs were turned to ice. She crossed the room and stood before Mr.
"I won't kiss you, Mr. Martin," said Maggie. "Oh, come, come shy, is she? Let me tell you, Popsy-wopsy, that every man wouldn't want to kiss you. She is not a bit like you, my dear Victoria. Wherever did she get that queer little face? She is no beauty, and that I will say.
He fetches and carries for them, and gives his handkerchief when they slobber, but perhaps it is he feels proud that a person of his size had these four enormous babies almost all at once like that. The whole thing is simply dreadful. Tea was a pandemonium! The four aunts gushing over the infants, and feeding them with cake, and gurgling with "tootsie-wootsie popsy-wopsy" kind of noises.
I like you all the better, my dear, for being plain. I don't want no beauties except my beloved Victoria. She's the woman for me. Ain't you, my Little-sing? Eh dear! Eh dear! It's we three who'll have the fun. I'll take you right into my heart, Popsy-wopsy, and snug and comfortable you'll find yourself there." Poor Maggie! The overwhelming contrast between this scene and the scenes of yesterday!
There was a dead silence in the room. Mrs. Howland looked with wild apprehension at her daughter. Mr. Martin had, however, still a jovial and smiling face. "Down on its knees ought Popsy-wopsy to go," he said.
She opened it, tore it from its envelope, and read the contents: "DEAR POPSY, I came across a cheap lot of frocks the other day at a bankrupt's sale, and thought at once of Little-sing and her daughter Popsy-wopsy. I am sending the dresses off to you without saying a word to Little-sing. You will be well off now for some time, and won't require the five pounds from me for dress at Christmas.
The waiter came along and was paid his bill, with a very substantial tip for himself thrown in. Still Martin lingered at the breakfast-table with his eyes lowered. "There's one thing and one thing only I like about this, Popsy-wopsy," he said. "And what is that?" asked Maggie.
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