THE VINE—THE FAMILY. 
59 
the door, and I caught a passing glimpse of a pair of blue eyes; but 
the head, curls, eyes, and all instantly vanished, though a little, fat, 
dimpled hand was seen holding on to the door, and swinging it back 
and forward. ‘ Ally dear, come in! ’ said the mother, in a tone of 
encouragement. ‘ Come in, Ally ! come in! ’ was repeated in various 
tones by each child ; but brother Tom pushed open the door, and taking 
the little recusant in his arms, brought her fairly in and deposited her 
on her father’s knee. She took firm hold of his coat, and then turned 
and gazed shyly upon me, her large blue eyes gleaming through her 
golden curls. It was evident that this was the pet lamb of the fold, 
and she was at that age when babyhood is verging into childhood 
an age often indefinitely prolonged in a large family, where the uni¬ 
versal admiration that waits on every look, and motion, and word of 
the baby, and the multiplied monopolies and privileges of the baby 
estate, seem, by universal consent, to extend as long and far as possible. 
And why not thus delay the little bark of the child among the flowery 
shores of its first Eden ? Defer them as we may, the hard, the real, 
the cold commonplace of life, comes on all too soon. 
‘ This is our New Year’s gift,’ said Winthrop, fondly caressing the 
curly head. '‘Ally, tell the gentleman how old you are/ 
‘I s’al be four next New ’Ears,’ said the little one, while all the 
circle looked applause. 
‘Ally, tell the gentleman what you are,’ said brother Ned. 
Ally looked coquettishly at me, as if she did not know whether 
she should favour me to that extent, and the young princess was 
further solicited. 
‘ Tell him what Ally is,’ said the eldest sister, with a patronizing 
air. 
‘Papa’s New ’Ears present,’ said my little lady at last. 
< And mamma’s too,’ said the mother, gently, amid the applauses oi 
the admiring circle. 
Winthrop looked apologetically at me, and said, ‘We all spoil her, 
—that’s a fact—every one of us, down to Eover there, who lets her 
tie tippets round his neck and put bonnets on his head, and hug and kiss 
him, to a degree that would disconcert any other dog in the world.’ 
Mrs. Stowe. 
