They aren't any such thing; they're the gold tacks that fasten on the carpet of heaven. ELSIE. When I grow up I shall have eleven babies, because I have eleven favorite names, and I shall have them all at once, so they can have nice, happy times playing together, and there won't have to be any horrid older brother and sister, always getting the best of everything. TERESA. And I'll tell you what! I'll have eleven children too, to marry yours. BOB. No, I'll marry one of them. ELSIE. No, you must marry one of us. BOB. Which one? ELSIE. Well, I think it would be best for you to marry me and be father for my eleven children. I want them to have a father. I love my father. TERESA. Yes; but then who'll be a father to my children? ELSIE. Yours can be sort of orphans; they needn't ever have had any father. TERESA. (_Approaching a tearful state._) No, that's awfully sad. I want my children to have a father, too! BOB. Never mind. I'll be their father besides. ELSIE. Let's play house. TERESA. Let's! BOB. Let's play Indians, and I'll scalp you two girls! ELSIE. No, that's too rough. We'll play husband and wife. Bob and I will get married, and, Teresa, you must be the minister and a bridesmaid. (_They retire into the house, where, with the aid of a wrapper, a night dress, a bouquet, and a black mackintosh, the ceremony is properly performed._) ELSIE. Now we'll have a little girl baby, and (_to Teresa_) you must be it. TERESA. No, I want to be the wife now, and you be the baby. ELSIE. No, I'll be the husband, and let Bob be the baby. BOB. I won't be the baby! TERESA. Anyway, it isn't polite for a little baby to come right away like that. They never do. ELSIE. That's so; you have to wait till the news that they want one gets up to the skies. III _Death_ _Teddy and Elsie are in the drawing-room, which is shadowy and sad with the drawn curtains. The children speak in half whispers, and with an air of importance._ TEDDY. It's going to be in here. ELSIE. Isn't it awful. (_Sobs._) TEDDY. Papa was a brick! ELSIE. (_Sob._) Now he's an angel. TEDDY. (_Thoughtfully._) Do you really think papa would like being an angel? ELSIE. Everybody likes to be an angel. TEDDY. I don't. ELSIE. O Teddy! TEDDY. It sounds stupid to me, like Sunday all the week. Besides, papa won't have any office there, and what'll he do without an office? ELSIE. Isn't it awful. (_Sob._) Poor papa! TEDDY. (_Swallowing a lump._) Don't cry! [_There is a slight noise overhead._ ELSIE. O Teddy! What was that? TEDDY. (_Trembling._) Don't be afraid! (_He puts his arm comfortingly around her, and they sit in a huge arm-chair together._) ELSIE. What is it like to be dead. TEDDY. It's like school all the time, never letting out, and no recess. ELSIE. (_With another sob._) Poor papa! Are you afraid of him now? TEDDY. No---- ELSIE. Do you want to go up and see him? TEDDY. No. That isn't him anyway upstairs! ELSIE.