the forlorn baby. The aristocratic baby lives, in a fine, well-furnished room, has a pretty little mamma, who wears white gowns, and pink ribbons in her cap; likewise, a fond young; papa, who evidently thinks this the most wonderful baby in Boston. There is a stout,, motherly lady, who is the grandma, I fancy, for she is always hovering about 'the dear' with cups, blankets, or a gorgeous red worsted bird to amuse it Baby is a plump, rosy, sweet-faced little creature, always smiling and kissing its hand to the world in general. In its pretty white frocks, with its own little pink or blue ribbons, and its young mamma proudly holding it up to see and be seen, my aristocratic neighbour has an easy life of it, and is evidently one of the little lilies who do nothing but blossom in the sunshine.
The happy-go-lucky baby is just able to
