"I sorry for it," remarked Herbert, gazing with curious interest at the
tiny creature, "I sorry for it; cause can't walk, can't talk, can't eat
good fings; dot no teef to eat wis. Do, boy, try to eat cacker, cacker
dood, Herbie likes," and breaking off a fragment he would have forced it
into the wee mouth, if papa and mammy had not interfered for its
protection.

"No, no, my son, you would choke it," said Mr. Travilla, gently drawing
him away.

"It isn't a boy; it's a girl, Herbie," corrected Harold.

"Oh!" cried Vi, who was gently feeling the top of the tiny head, and she
looked aghast at her father, "O, papa, its head's rotten!"

"No, daughter, don't be alarmed," he said smiling slightly, "there's
nothing wrong there; all young babies' heads are soft like that on the
top."

"Oh, are they?" she said with a sigh of relief, "I was afraid it would
spoil soon and we couldn't keep her."

"No, she seems to be all right," he said with a grave and tender smile.
"God has been very good to us."

"Yes, papa. Oh such a pretty darling as it is!" said Elsie.

"Yes, indeed," chimed in the others; Vi adding, "and I'm so glad she's a
girl: 'cause now we have two sisters, Elsie, just the same as the boys."