he was as old as the czar is, and it's awful hard on her.
You see, he can't pat-a-cake, or this-little-pig-went-to-
market, or wave a bye-bye or nothin'. I never told her
what Danny could do when he was this age. But I am workin'
hard to get him to say 'Daddy-dinger.' She has her heart
set on that. Well, I must go on now."

The doctor lifted his hat, and the imperial carriage
moved on.

She had gone a short distance when she remembered something:

"I'll let you know when he says it, doc!" she shouted.

"All right, don't forget," he smiled back.

When Pearlie turned the next corner she met Maudie Ducker.
Maudie Ducker had on a new plaid dress with velvet
trimming, and Maudie knew it.

"Is that your Sunday dress," she asked Pearl, looking
critically at Pearlie's faded little brown winsey.

"My, no!" Pearlie answered cheerfully. "This is just my
morning dress. I wear my blue satting in the afternoon,
and on Sundays, my purple velvet with the watter-plait,
and basque-yoke of tartaric plaid, garnished with lace.
Yours is a nice little plain dress. That stuff fades
though; ma lined a quilt for the boys' bed with it and
it faded gray."