THE BABY'S DAY. 173

CHAPTER XVII.
’ THE BABY’S DAY.

HE day that Aunt Matthews brought the baby over to
spend the day, Trotty & Co., Printers, Publishers, and
Booksellers, were in great distress. The grown-up people
had said, —with that cruel and exquisite thoughtlessness
characteristic of grown-up people, when you are doing any-
thing particular, —‘“ Come, children ! just take Baby up stairs
with you and amuse her this afternoon. She won’t disturb
you any, and her mother is very tired with the care of her.”

So there she was as large as life, in the printing-office, sit-
ting on the copy, swallowing the type, tumbling into the
waste-basket, and otherwise making herself useful about the
establishment at a unique and fearful rate.

This was the same baby whom Trotty had so nearly
poisoned playing doctors long ago. She was perhaps —
well, I don’t know how old—then. Babies look so much
alike at all ages! All I know is that it was the same baby.
I take her mother’s testimony for that, so I think you can
rely on it.

“ Perhaps we can find a baby-story,” suggested Nita, “and
that will keep her still.”

“There was one,” said Lill, “ but we threw it out. Trotty