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Helen's Babies by John Habberton
page 12 of 164 (07%)
some way. Driver, whip up, won't you? I'm in a hurry to turn these
youngsters over to the girl, and ask her to drop them into the
bath-tub."

I found Helen had made every possible arrangement for my comfort.
Her room commanded exquisite views of mountain-slope and valley,
and even the fact that the imps' bedroom adjoined mine gave me
comfort, for I thought of the pleasure of contemplating them while
they were asleep, and beyond the power of tormenting their deluded
uncle.

At the supper-table Budge and Toddie appeared cleanly clothed in
their rightful faces. Budge seated himself at the table; Toddie
pushed back his high-chair, climbed into it, and shouted:

"Put my legs under ze tabo."

Rightfully construing this remark as a request to be moved to the
table, I fulfilled his desire. The girl poured tea for me and milk
for the children, and retired; and then I remembered, to my
dismay, that Helen never had a servant in the dining-room except
upon grand occasions, her idea being that servants retail to their
friends the cream of the private conversation of the family
circle. In principle I agreed with her, but the penalty of the
practical application, with these two little cormorants on my
hands, was greater suffering than any I had ever been called upon
to endure for principle's sake; but there was no help for it. I
resignedly rapped on the table, bowed my head, said, "From what we
are about to receive, the Lord make us thankful," and asked Budge
whether he ate bread or biscuit.
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