“Poor mamma!” sighed the girl.

But Jimmy had other reflections.  Two minutes later he walked past his mother’s open door, and fumbled around in the sitting-room.

“Is that you, Jimmy?” asked his mother.

“Yes ’m,” rejoined the boy.

“What are you doing?”

“Lookin’ for my other coat.”

“Won’t you come in and see me, Jimmy?  I haven’t seen you for two whole days.”

“In a minute,” returned Jimmy.

Standing awkwardly in the doorway, he asked, “What ’d you want?”

“Come over here, Jimmy,” returned the mother.  “My poor, neglected boy!” He would not let his eyes find the new baby.  He stood stiffly on one foot, and gave his mother his hand.  She drew him down and kissed his cheek, while he pecked at her lips.  As Jimmy rose, his mother smiled.

[Illustration:  She drew him down and kissed his cheek while he pecked at her lips.]

“Are you hungry, Jimmy?”

The boy nodded a vociferous affirmative.  Being a boy, one of the lowest orders of human creatures in point of intuitions, Jimmy could not know that his mother understood the rankle in her son’s heart.  Nor could he divine that she kept the supper dainties as peace offerings.

“Won’t you have some of my supper?”

“Don’t you want it?” returned the boy, to justify his greed.

“No, Jimmy; I’m not hungry.  I kept it all for you.”

While her son was sitting on the floor, eating off the tray on the chair by the bed, his mother’s hand was in his hair, stroking it lovingly.  His sister and the other children looked in and saw him.  Jimmy knew they were whispering “Hoggy!” but he did not heed them.  His mother avoided mentioning the new baby to him; she made him tell her about his sore toe, and in return she told him how lonely she had been without him.

As his stomach filled, his heart overflowed,—­a common coincidence even with older and better boys than Jimmy, and the tears came to his eyes.  At last, when the plate was cleared, he rose, and went to the place where the new-comer lay.  He bent over the little puff in the bedclothes, and grinned sheepishly as he lifted the cover from the sleeping baby’s face.  He looked at the red features a moment curiously, and said in his loud, husky, boyish voice,—­

“Hullo there, Miss Sears; how are you this evenin’?”

Then he pinched his mother’s arm and walked out of the room, his soul at peace.

[Illustration]

MUCH POMP AND SEVERAL CIRCUMSTANCES