"Well, I declare, he has grown to be a big lump of a lad," exclaimed
Holstrom. "I dare say, Frederick, you feel conceited enough now to think
yourself a degree above such fellows as George and I are, in having
graduated as a Batchelor of Arts--I mean--Bachelor of Babies. You will,
no doubt hereafter, append B. B. to your name as a title of merit; or,
Bad Behavior, I should rather have said. However, the initials will
stand for both. He's the very picture of yourself, and will soon need a
hat as big as his grandpa's."

At this moment the bell was again rung; and shortly afterwards, a
graceful looking young woman entered the room. Very politely she shook
hands with Mr. and Mrs. Charlston and the others present. She then took
the infant, and pressed it lovingly to her bosom, imprinting a few
kisses upon its tiny lips. The child in return smiled affectionately,
apparently delighted with the caresses of a recognized and familiar
friend.

"I say, Clara," exclaimed Holstrom, addressing the young woman, with
whom he was apparently acquainted, "I think it would be charitable on
your part to spare a few of those luxuriant caresses for poor Frederick;
a slight sprinkling of balm from your roseate lips would work wonders as
a remedy to his breathing apparatus. Just come and see how many dozen of
blankets he has wrapped around his throat: enough, I am sure, to supply
the beds of a whole household on a winter's night."

"Why, Frederick, how did you get such a cold in your throat?"
interrogated Clara.

"By sleeping alone during the cold nights of the past week," retorted
Holstrom, ere Frederick could get time to breathe out a more respectful