"What?" cried Mrs. Baxter.

"Yes'm, he did!" Jane asserted. "He did it four or five times. First
he'd lean his head way over on his shoulder like this--look, mamma!--an'
then he'd lean it way over the other shoulder, an' every time he'd do it
he'd bark. 'Berp-werp!' he'd say, mamma, just like that, only not loud
at all. He said, 'Berp-werp! BERP-WERP-WERP!' You could tell he meant
it for barkin', but it wasn't very good, mamma. What you think he meant,
mamma?"

"Heaven knows!" murmured the astonished mother.

"An' then," Jane continued, "he quit barkin' all of a sudden, an' didn't
lean his head over any more, an' commenced actin' kind of solemn, an'
kind of whispered to himself. I think he was kind of pretendin' he was
talkin' to Miss Pratt, or at a party, maybe. Anyways, he spoke out loud
after while not just exactly LOUD, I mean, but anyway so's 't I could
hear what he said. Mamma--he said, 'Oh, my baby-talk lady!' just like
that, mamma. Listen, mamma, here's the way he said it: 'Oh, my baby-talk
lady!'"

Jane's voice, in this impersonation, became sufficiently soft and
tremulous to give Mrs. Baxter a fair idea of the tender yearning of the
original. "'OH, MY BABY-TALK LADY!'" cooed the terrible Jane.

"Mercy!" Mrs. Baxter exclaimed. "Perhaps it's no wonder Mr. Parcher--"
She broke off abruptly, then inquired, "What did he do next, Jane?"

"Next," said Jane, "he put the light out, an' I had to--well, I just