"You'se a big, old girl," she went on, smoothing out Didy's petticoats,
"and I've had you for ever and ever, and I'se mos' six. But you grow no
bigger. You never, never cry, you don't. You'se a stupid old thing, and
I'm _tired_ of _you_, I am! I b'leve you'se only a _make b'leve_ baby,
and I want a _real_, _live_ baby, I do--a baby that will cry! Now don't
you see," and she gave the doll's head a whack--"that you don't cry? If
anybody should hit _me_ so, I'd squeam _m-u-r-d-e-r_, I would! And then
the p'lissman would come, and there would be an _awful_ time. There, now
sit up, can't you? Your back is like a broken stick. Oh, hum, I'm tired
of _you_, Didy."

Leaving the doll leaning in a one-sided way against the door, Nannette
posed her dimpled chin in her hands, and sat quietly looking into the
street. Presently a woman came along with a bundle in her arms, and
seeing Nannette and "Didy" in the doorway, went up the steps and asked
the little girl if she would not like to have a real little _live_ baby.

"One that will _cry_?" eagerly asked Nannette.

"Yes, one that will cry, and laugh, too, after a bit," answered the
woman, all the time looking keenly about her; and then in a hushed voice
she asked the child if her mother was at home.

"No--she's gone to see my auntie, shall I call her?" replied Nannette,
jumping to her feet, and clapping her hands, from a feeling as if in
some way she was to have her long-wished-for _live_ baby.

"No; don't call her; and if you want a baby that will _cry_, you must be
very quiet, and listen to me. Mark me now--have you a quarter of a
dollar, to pay for a baby?"