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"Now, May, my pet," cried the fireman, catching up his little one and tossing her in the air, "Ned, that is so fond of you, is a blood-relation, so you may call him `uncle' next time he comes uncle Ned!" "Unkil Ned," lisped the Rosebud. "And me cousin," chimed in Fred. "Iss cuzn," responded May.
There was no necessity to fetch baby, for that obstreperous individual entertained an immense regard for "Unkil Day," and was already on his fat legs staggering across the floor to him with outstretched arms. Thereafter he only required a pair of wings to make him a complete cherub. Little Grace, relieved of her charge, at once set to work to assist her mother in household matters.
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