"That's very evident," said the old gentleman. "Bless me!" addressing
the woman, "how many children have you, pray tell?"

"Nine," she said. Then she twitched the jacket of one of them, and the
pinafore of another, to have them mind their manners, while the baby
kicked and crowed and gurgled, seeming to be all teeth.

"I have brought you some fruit," said Phronsie, holding out her basket,
whereat all the tow headed group except the baby crowded each other
dreadfully to see all there was in it. "I'm sorry the flowers are gone,
so I couldn't bring any to-day. May the baby have this?" holding out a
pear by the stem.

The baby settled that question by lunging forward and seizing the pear
with two fat hands, when he immediately sank into the depths of the old
shawl again, all his teeth quite busy at work. Phronsie set down her
basket on the deck, and the rest of the brood emptied it to their own
satisfaction. Their mother's stolid face lighted up with a broad smile
that showed all her teeth, and very white and even they were.

"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, turning to him and clasping her hands, "if
I only might hold that baby just one little bit of a minute," she
begged, keenly excited.

"Oh, Phronsie, he's too big," expostulated Mr. King, in dismay.

"I can hold him just as easy, Grandpapa dear," said Phronsie, her lips
drooping mournfully. "See." And she sat down on a big coil of rope near
by and smoothed out her brown gown. "Please, Grandpapa dear."