"Oh, you said a bad swear!" ejaculated Toddie. "You won't go to
heaven when you die."

"Neither will you, if you howl like a little, demon all night. Are
you going to be quiet, now?"

"Yesh, but I wants my dolly."

"_I_ don't know where your dolly is--do you suppose I'm going to
search this entire house for that confounded dolly?"

"'TAIN'T 'founded. I wants my dolly." "I don't know where it is;
you don't think I stole your dolly, do you?"

"Well, I wants it, in de bed wif me."

"Charles," said I, "when you arise in morning, I hope your doll
will be found. At present, however, you must be resigned and go to
sleep. I'll cover you up nicely;" here I began to rearrange the
bed-clothing, when the fateful dolly, source of all my woes,
tumbled out of them. Toddie clutched it, his whole face lighting
up with affectionate delight, and he screamed:--

"Oh, dare is my dee dolly: tum to your own papa, dolly, an' I'll
love you."

And that ridiculous child was so completely satisfied by his
outlay of affection that my own indignation gave place to genuine
artistic pleasure. One CAN tire of even beautiful pictures,