on this other little Jamie; try it on him, and if he isn’t a better baby and an easier baby to take care of, less trouble in every way, and happier, why, then you can call in a doctor and figure out what you think would serve better.”
She turned to Jamie.
“You must fix up some kind of a bed for him. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a clothes basket. Put a couple of pillows in it and fold something over for a padding. Our little Scout will bring you out a real softy pillow for his head. Our Jimmy has two or three. He can always divide with another baby, and I think he has enough little covers that we can spare a couple, and there is a world of clothes in that suitcase. He won’t be needing anything for months, unless he grows so fast that he walks out of them.”
She arose and went to the telephone, picked up a pencil attached to a string, and on the margin of a list hanging there wrote a number.
“That’s my number, and a ring will find me at eight o’clock in the morning, or twelve at noon, or six in the evening. If anything goes wrong, call me and I’ll come right out and see what I can do to help you.”
Then she picked up the baby and held it tight to her and kissed its little face and its hands and finished with its feet and handed it to Margaret Cameron. Jamie escorted Mrs. Meredith and the little Scout back to the car. As he closed the door, the Scout Master leaned forward and
