Waller, Mary E.

A Daughter of the Rich

Good-night, Martie, called a sweet voice down the stairway. Good-night, Rose dear; I thought you were asleep. Good-night, Martie, duetted the twins, in the shrillest of treble and falsetto. Good-night, you rogues; go to sleep; you'll wake baby. Dood-night, mummy, chirped a little voice from the adjoining room. There was a shout of laughter from the twins. Shut up, growled March from the attic over the kitchen. Good-night, mother. His growl ended in a squeak, for March was at that interesting period of his life indicated by a change of voice. At the sound, a prolonged snicker from somewhere was answered by a corresponding giggle from another-where. Now, children, said Mrs. Blossom, speaking up the stairway, do be quiet, or baby will be wide awake. Tum tiss me, mummy, piped the little voice a second time, with no sound of sleep in it.

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