while the connoisseur goes into a transport of admiration, Master Baby, alarmed, fluttered, and uncomfortable, first looks long and piteously into the strange visage above him, and proceeds to express his sentiments by wrinkling up his cherubic nose and opening his cherry mouth for a squall. “There! take him, nurse!” says the visitor, hastily. “He does not fancy new acquaintances. In a year or two, he will be just at the interesting age, and we shall be capital friends. Not a word, my dear!”--to Mamma, who stammers an apology. “All young children behave worst when we want them to show off their prettiest ways.” This may be true, but for my part I don’t blame the babies. Most Papas are shy or negligent of their heirs or heiresses at this epoch. It is quite common to hear ladies relate, as a proof, I suppose, of their spouses’ superiority to small matters, that they are utterly careless of their babies while they are in arms. “Mr. C. never notices one of his until it is two years of age,” remarks Mrs. C. “Then, when he sees that it is a pretty plaything, he becomes quite fond of it, enjoys frolicking with it.” As he would with a puppy, which, frisking about his feet, should attract his lordship’s attention to its graceful shape and winning ways! “Mr. D. thinks young babies disgusting little animals,” laughs Mrs. D., in reply. “He says that he would not kiss one under eighteen months old, for five hundred dollars!” My private opinion, which, of course, I do not divulge to Mrs. D., is that her husband is a Yahoo, and ought to be banished to Gulliver’s famous island, in order that he might consort with his fellows. Even good, right-minded, affectionate Papas--like your stronger half and mine, dear reader!--do not overwhelm his very littleness with demonstrations of esteem. “Say good-by to Baby!” you plead, as his paternal progenitor enters the nursery to take leave of you until dinner-time. If he does not smoke, and is _very_ amiable, he stoops and touches the little forehead with his lips--a very different salute from that bestowed upon yourself. If he has lighted a cigar, he replies: “I won’t kiss him. The tobacco might sicken him. Good-by, monkey!” tapping the velvet cheek with one finger. Baby blinks and throws his fat arms about in a blind, senseless fashion, which you think very cunning. “Did you ever see a child grow and improve as he does!” you ask, delightedly. “Oh, very!” is the good-natured, but not very pertinent response. “The fact is, wifie, I am not much of a judge of the article in its present state. Wait until he reaches the interesting age, and you will have no cause to complain of my lukewarm praise.” Bridget, also, “is very fond of children, when they get to be knowing and wise, and full of pretty tricks, but she finds the care of a young baby very confining,” and but for the tip-top wages she gets, would probably look out for another place.