Peter the wise had stood viewing these attentions to the other baby
with stolid imperturbability, but as Rose Mary turned away to her
table he licked out his pink tongue and bobbed his head toward the
milk crocks, while his solemn eyes conveyed his desire without words.
Peter's vocabulary was both new and limited, and he was at all times
extremely careful against any wastefulness of it. His lips quivered as
if in uncertainty as to whether he was to be left out of this lactic
deal, and his eyes grew reproachful.
"Why, man alive, did you think I had forgotten you!" exclaimed Rose
Mary as she turned with the cup to one of the crocks standing in the
water, at the sight of which motion relief dawned in the serious eyes
of the young petitioner. Filling the cup swiftly, she lifted the
youngster in her arms and came over to sit in the door beside Shoofly
at Everett's feet. With dignified deliberation Peter began to consume
his draft in slow gulps, and after each one he lifted his eyes to Rose
Mary's face as if rendering courteous appreciation for the consumed
portion. His chubby fingers were clasped around her wrist as she held
the cup for him, and her other hand cuddled one of his bare,
briar-scratched knees. The picture had its instituted effect on
Everett, and he bent toward the little group in the doorway and rested
his elbows on his knees as his world-restless eyes softened and the
lines around his mouth melted into a smile.
"Rose Mary," he said with an almost abashed note in his deep voice,
"we'll dispense with the lilacs--they're not needed as retainers, and
I don't deserve them.
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