rain. Emma ran to the telephone in the next room, and telephoned to the
Browns. Yes, the baby was very, very sick.

Emma came back softly into the room where the fire burned so
comfortably. Baby Paul was still crying softly to himself.

"The Brown baby is dreadfully sick," said Emma softly. "Oh, dreadfully!
Lizzie Brown was crying when I telephoned to her. They don't know
whether the baby will live."

Ralph and Emma looked at baby Paul. Both children had the same thought.
Emma ran to baby Paul, and hugged him.

"Oh, baby darling!" cried Emma. "Baby darling, I couldn't stand it if
you were sick!"

"Goo!" said baby Paul, looking at Emma's face. That ugly something that
was in her face awhile ago was not there now. Baby Paul smiled. If big
sister's face was all right what was there to cry about?

Ralph went to the window and looked toward the Browns. Then Ralph went
to baby Paul and hugged him. Baby Paul crowed for joy. Big brother's and
sister's faces were all right!

"You darling!" cried Emma. "Let's play menagerie for him, Ralph."

So pretty soon the little elephant and the fuzzy rabbit and the wooden
dog and the lop-eared donkey were being hurried about at so lively a
rate that baby Paul crowed and shouted for joy. What fun it was to be a
well baby, when big sister and big brother smiled at him! And the rain