Starr was the outgrown baby now; there was a new baby in the nursery -
a very, very new one. He was so new that Starr was sure he could not feel much
acquainted yet with anybody, and that was why he cried so often.
"He's kind of homesick, I
guess," Starr said. "Course he cries! I cried that time I was at my
grandfather's 'thout my mother. Folks always cry when they're homesick."
There were so many beautiful
things about that new baby! Starr haunted the nursery all day long, to make
sure of not missing any of them. He watched Nurse Mary wash and dress the baby every
morning in front of the open fire. That was the most beautiful thing of all!
Such round, dimply little elbows and knees! Curly, curly little legs! Such a
soft little fuzz on the small, round head that Nurse Mary insisted was hair!
Every week they weighed the
new baby, and every week he had gained about half a pound. It surprised Starr a
little, and made him rather uncertain about the homesick theory.
"I didn't gain
half-pounds when I was homesick," he reflected. "I got just as unfat,
an' he keeps a-gettin' fatter! Maybe that isn't the reason he cries."
The eighth week the new baby
weighed fifteen pounds, and Starr was very proud indeed-as proud; Nurse Mary
said, as if he weighed fifteen pounds himself. He got his slate and pencil and
"reduced" the fifteen pounds to ounces, to make it sound still more splendid.
Starr was "in" denominative numbers now, in his 'rithmetic, so he
could do a little sum like that as easy as anything.
"One hundred 'n'
eighty," he announced, looking up from his slate. Then he hurried back to
the nursery to tell Nurse Mary.
"The baby weighs a
hundred 'n' eighty ounces," he said, triumphantly; "twelve times
fifteen, you know -that's the way you do it. There's twelve ounces in a.
pou"
"Twelve," exclaimed
Nurse Mary in surprise, "I thought in my time sixteen ounces made a
pound."
"Avoirdupois
weight," Starr said, looking scornful, "but the baby's Troy weight."
"Troy weight?"
Nurse Mary looked up over the new baby's little bald head in more surprise
still. The scorn on Starr's face grew and grew till it covered up all his
little gold-brown freckles.
"Course, Troy
weight!" he cried. "I hope you don't s'pose we'd weigh the baby
avoirdupois, same as coal and flour and-and butter! It's Troy weight you weigh
precious things by-gold and silver and di'monds -and the baby."
And Starr' dropped a
kiss into the little, warm, sweet wen of the baby's neck.
Sunday School
Visitor.
