The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading his Bible, had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty that ever after he called his sister Dulcimer! “Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!” he repeated; “for Ruby's an angel of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat on purpose.” “What purpose, Diamond?” asked his father. “Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his master comes,” answered Diamond.--“What do you think, Dulcimer? It must be for some good, for Ruby's an angel.” “I wish I were rid of him, anyhow,” said his father; “for he weighs heavy on my mind.” “No wonder, father: he's so fat,” said Diamond. “But you needn't be afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you had him.” “Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. It was too bad to leave him on my hands this way.” “Perhaps he couldn't help it,” suggested Diamond. “I daresay he has some good reason for it.” “So I should have said,” returned his father, “if he had not driven such a hard bargain with me at first.” “But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband,” said his wife. “Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of the bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon.” “I'm afraid not: he's a hard man,” said Joseph, as he rose and went to get his cab out. Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches of everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something like what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it. Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into here. Where did you get your eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here. What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by. What makes your cheek like a warm white rose? I saw something better than any one knows. Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? Three angels gave me at once a kiss. Where did you get this pearly ear? God spoke, and it came out to hear. Where did you get those arms and hands? Love made itself into hooks and bands. Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? From the same box as the cherubs' wings. How did they all just come to be you? God thought about me, and so I grew. But how did you come to us, you dear? God thought about you, and so I am here. “You never made that song, Diamond,” said his mother. “No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don't. That would be to take it from somebody else. But it's mine for all that.” “What makes it yours?”