OOTS is our baby. He is a queer one too; up early, and always in dread
of bed-time. One morning, not long ago, we heard him singing, and on
looking for him, found the little rogue in the very middle of our best
bed in the guest chamber, where he was playing hand-organ with a long
hairpin put through the pretty pillow covers which had just come home
from the laundry. There he sat singing a droll medley of "Uncle Ned,"
"Blessed Desus," and "Down in the Coal Mine." He had been watching two
soldiers with a hand-organ, and Toots likes to do everything he sees
done. While we were putting the guest-room in order, Toots marched out
as a blind man, with his eyes shut and a cane in his hand. This brought
him to grief, for he was picked up at the foot of the stairs with two
large bumps on his pretty white brow. Toots was quiet then for a little
while, a very little while, for as soon as we decided that his bones
were all sound and a doctor need not be called, he "played sick," and
asked for "shicken brof" and toast.
One night mamma was imprudent, for she said to a visitor, who was
praising the little fellow, "Oh, yes, Toots is always lovely and gentle
at bed-time." That very night while mamma was resting on the lounge, and
her friend was chatting, both ladies heard a mysterious clicking. "It
can't be Toots," said mamma; "his eyes were closed when I left him."
Then the clicking came again louder than ever, and suddenly a crash as
of breaking glass. Mamma sprang up at once, and there was Toots seated
on a bath-tub driving for dear life with two of his best sashes for
reins. He had fastened one on each side of the mirror, and in his
eagerness to drive fast, had tumbled down toilet-bottles, cushions, and
all the pretty things his mamma loved to see. Toots was playing circus.
Barnum had been in town the day before, and Toots had made a grand
procession with chairs, books, bottles, pictures, and everything his
little hands could reach. Such a happy, beaming face was never seen
before. "Why, Toots, I thought you were asleep," said mamma. "No, I hab
too much to do, my 'cession is coming up street fast."
When he was quite small, Toots used to spend hours in the garden safely
fastened into the standing stool which his grandpa had when a little
boy. The little fellow's face was so bright, and his large eyes so full
of innocent fun, that no one could be angry with Toots even when he did
very strange and unexpected things.
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