第65章 CHAPTER XX.(2)
"Here! Give me that child!" cried Euphemia, forcibly taking Pat and the bottle from me. "You'll make it swallow the whole affair, and I'm sure its mouth's big enough.""You really don't think," she said, when we were alone, and little Pat, with his upturned blue eyes serenely surveying the features of the good lady who knew how to feed him, was placidly pulling away at his india-rubber tube, "that I will consent to your keeping such a creature as this in the house? Why, he's a regular little Paddy!
If you kept him he'd grow up into a hod-carrier.""Good!" said I. "I never thought of that. What a novel thing it would be to witness the gradual growth of a hod-carrier! I'll make him a little hod, now, to begin with. He couldn't have a more suitable toy.""I was talking in earnest," she said. "Take your baby, and please carry him home as quick as you can, for I am certainly not going to take care of him.""Of course not," said I. "Now that I see how it's done, I'm going to do it myself. Jonas will mix his feed and I will give it to him. He looks sleepy now. Shall I take him upstairs and lay him on our bed?""No, indeed," cried Euphemia. "You can put him on a quilt on the floor, until after luncheon, and then you must take him home."I laid the young Milesian on the folded quilt which Euphemia prepared for him, where he turned up his little pug nose to the ceiling and went contentedly to sleep.
That afternoon I nailed four legs on a small packing-box and made a bedstead for him. This, with a pillow in the bottom of it, was very comfortable, and instead of taking him home, I borrowed, in the evening, some baby night-clothes from Pomona, and set about preparing Pat for the night.
This Euphemia would not allow, but silently taking him from me, she put him to bed.
"To-morrow," she said, "you must positively take him away. I wont stand it. And in our room, too.""I didn't talk in that way about the baby you adopted," I said.
To this she made no answer, but went away to attend, as usual, to Pomona's baby, while its mother washed the dishes.
That night little Pat woke up, several times, and made things unpleasant by his wails. On the first two occasions, I got up and walked him about, singing impromptu lines to the tune of "weak and wounded," but the third time, Euphemia herself arose, and declaring that that doleful tune was a great deal worse than the baby's crying, silenced him herself, and arranging his couch more comfortably, he troubled us no more.
In the morning, when I beheld the little pad of orange fur in the box, my heart almost misgave me, but as the day wore on, my courage rose again, and I gave myself up, almost entirely, to my new charge, composing a vast deal of blank verse, while walking him up and down the house.
Euphemia scolded and scolded, and said she would put on her hat and go for the mother. But I told her the mother was dead, and that seemed to be an obstacle. She took a good deal of care of the child, for she said she would not see an innocent creature neglected, even if it was an incipient hod-carrier, but she did not relax in the least in her attention to Pomona's baby.
The next day was about the same, in regard to infantile incident, but, on the day after, I began to tire of my new charge, and Pat, on his side, seemed to be tired of me, for he turned from me when Iwent to take him up, while he would hold out his hands to Euphemia, and grin delightedly when she took him.
That morning I drove to the village and spent an hour or two there.
On my return I found Euphemia sitting in our room, with little Pat on her lap. I was astonished at the change in the young rascal.
He was dressed, from head to foot, in a suit of clothes belonging to Pomona's baby; the glowing fuzz on his head was brushed and made as smooth as possible, while his little muslin sleeves were tied up with blue ribbon.
I stood speechless at the sight.
"Don't he look nice?" said Euphemia, standing him up on her knees.
"It shows what good clothes will do. I'm glad I helped Pomona make up so many. He's getting ever so fond of me, ze itty Patsy, watsy!