"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, softly, as she clung to his hand, after
they had made the descent to the lower deck, "I think the littlest one
can eat some of the fruit, don't you?" she asked anxiously.

"Never you fear," assented old Mr. King, "that child that I saw
yesterday can compass anything in the shape of food. Why, it had its
mouth full of teeth, Phronsie; it was impossible not to see them when
it roared."

"I am so glad its teeth are there," said Phronsie, with a sigh of
satisfaction, as she regarded her basket of fruit, "because if it
hadn't any, we couldn't give it these nice pears, Grandpapa."

"Well, here we are," said Mr. King, holding her hand tightly. "Bless
me--are those your toes, young man?" this to a big chubby-faced boy,
whose fat legs lay across the space as he sprawled on the deck; "just
draw them in a bit, will you?--there. Well, now, Phronsie, this way.
Here's the party, I believe," and he led her over to the other side,
where a knot of steerage passengers were huddled together. In the midst
sat a woman, chubby faced, and big and square, holding a baby. She had
a big red shawl wrapped around her, in the folds of which snuggled the
baby, who was contentedly chewing one end of it, while his mother had
her eyes on the rest of her offspring, of which there seemed a good
many. When the baby saw Phronsie, he stopped chewing the old shawl and
grinned, showing all the teeth of which Mr. King had spoken. The other
children, tow headed and also chubby, looked at the basket hanging on
Phronsie's arm, and also grinned.

"There is the baby!" exclaimed Phronsie, in delight, pulling
Grandpapa's hand gently. "Oh, Grandpapa, there he is."