"I thought there'd be a row if she waked up," Master Plummer replied, in a matter-of-fact tone, and then he laid himself down again, evidently intending to continue the interrupted nap. "See here, Plums, you can't do that!" Joe cried, sharply. "I mustn't be left alone with this poor little thing. It ain't certain but she'll die, she's so frightened." "Don't fret yourself. She'll come out of it after a spell; all Mis' Carter's kids used to." "But she isn't like them, I tell you! They could stand 'most anything, an' she's been raised different." "She cries jest the same's they did." "Look here, George Plummer, get up on your feet an' help me! This thing is growin' dangerous!" Plums had no fear the princess would injure herself by crying; but his friend spoke so sternly that he decided it was wisest to obey the command, and a very sleepy-looking boy he was, as he stood yawning and rubbing his eyes, with an expression of discontent amounting almost to peevishness upon his face. "There ain't anything either you or I can do. Youngsters have to yell jest about so much,--it makes 'em healthy,--an' she'll quiet down after a spell. Why don't you give her somethin' to eat?" "I tried that, but she wouldn't take a single crumb. The trouble is, we haven't got what she wants. Now, if there was some milk in the house--" "But there ain't, so what's the use thinkin' of that?" "It must be near mornin', an' if there is a bakeshop anywhere 'round, you could get some." "Do you want a feller to turn out in the night an' travel 'round the streets lookin' for milk?" Plums asked, indignantly. "It is better to do that than have a dear little baby like this die." "But there's no danger anything of that kind will happen. I've seen lots of worse scrapes than this, but they always ended up all right." "Look here, Plums, will you go out an' get some milk?" "What's the use--" "_Will_ you go an' get the milk?" Just for an instant Master Plummer stood irresolute, as if questioning the necessity for such severe exertion, and then a single glance at his friend's face decided the matter. In silence, but with a decided show of temper, the fat boy picked up one of the tomato-cans, jammed his battered hat down over his head, and stalked out of the shanty. During this brief conversation the princess's outcries had neither ceased nor diminished in volume, and when Plums had thus unwillingly departed, it was as if she redoubled her efforts. Unfortunately, Joe had had no experience with "old Mis' Carter's kids," and when the child's face took on a purplish hue, he was thoroughly alarmed, believing her to be dying. "Don't, baby dear, don't! You'll kill yourself if you act this way! I'm doin' the best I know how; but the trouble is, I can't tell what you want!"