FLOSS’S BABY.

There was only one thing Floss wished for
very, very much; and that was to have a
brother or sister, she did not much care which,
younger than herself. She had the most moth-
erly heart in the world; though she was such
a quiet little girl that very few people knew
anything about what she was thinking, and the
big ones laughed at her for being so outrage-
ously fond of dolls. She had dolls of every
kind and size, only alike in one thing, that
none of them were very pretty, or what you

would consider grand dolls. But to Floss

they were lovely, only, they were only dolls!

Can you fancy, can you in the least fancy,
Floss’s delight —a sort of delight that made
her feel as if she could n’t speak — when one
winter’s morning she was awakened by nurse,
to be told that a real live baby had come in
the night, a little brother ; and “such a funny
little fellow,” added nurse, “his head just cov-
ered with curly red hair. Where did he get
that from, I wonder? Not one of my children
has hair like that; though yours, Miss Flossie,
has a touch of it, perhaps.”