“Well, she better.” Bobbert scowled at the baby, who smiled sweetly back. “You’re bad,” he said, shortly. “Oh, _nein_,” she smiled. [Illustration: “_‘Oh, nein,’ she smiled._ _‘Oh, ja,’ he scowled._” ] “Oh, _ja_,” he scowled. “You’re always chewing the wrong thing. Look at your shoe, all wet! What’ll Minna say?” She screwed her face into wrinkles and shook her head, wringing her hands with Minna’s gesture. “_Pfui! pfui doch! ’s ist abscheulich!_” she scolded. “I don’t believe you’ll get a present at all,” he continued. “Babe get p’es’t! Babe get big p’es’t!” “Not a one! Not a one!” he persisted. Her eyes filled; she implored him earnestly. “_P’ease_, Babe get big p’es’t!” “Not a——” “Stop teasing your sister, Bobbert. Of course she’ll get a present. Why not?” “Because she swore.” “What on earth do you mean?” “I mean what I say.” “When did she swear?” “Day before yesterday night. She said she was going to be bad when she got up, and they kept at her to say she wouldn’t and she said she would. She can be the worst you ever saw.” “Worse ever saw!” echoed the baby. “And all day they were afraid she would be, and she wasn’t and she wasn’t, and she wasn’t. Not till she went to bed. And she said her prayers—that one she says, ‘_Herr Jesus, mild und_—something—_Du_’—and then she just looked right up at the ceiling and swore as hard as she could.” “What in th—time did she say?” “She said: ‘O Lord! Good Heavens! Damn!’” [Illustration: “’_Oh Lord! Good Heavens! Damn!_’”] “Oh!” “And she got her little hands mighty well slapped, too. She must never say it again, must you, Baby?” The baby laughed impishly. There was no telling what more she knew. At exactly half-past six the library doors flew open with a bang, the piano struck up a brilliant march and Minna escorted her charges pompously down the stairs, the baby in white, with a bewildering number of pink bows, Bobbert in a blue sailor suit. Around the gleaming tree stood a ring of aunts, uncles and grandparents, flushed and happy. “Merry Christmas, Bobbert! Merry Christmas, Babe! How do you like it? Isn’t it grand? See the angel? See the pop-corn? Don’t look at the floor yet! (No, it isn’t time so soon. Chris will start it.) Well, was it lovely, bless her little heart? _Wunderschön, Liebchen, nicht wahr?_” Bobbert smiled perfunctorily at the tree, blinked a little, leaped through the ring of bright-frocked relatives, and fell upon a red-faced, apologetic man standing with the group of delighted servants near the door. “Hello David!” he cried. “When did you come back? Are you going to stay? Did you know I could swim? Will you tell me a story to-night?”