Budge & Toddie; Or, Helen's Babies at Play

On the morning of the second day of Mrs. Burton’s experiment, the aunt of Budge and Toddie awoke with more than her usual sense of the responsibility and burden of life. Her hus...

There was a little family conclave at the Lawrence house a fortnight later. No deliberative meeting had been intended; quite the contrary; for Mrs. Lawrence was on that day to m...

The writer of a certain much-abused book sat at breakfast one morning with his wife, and their conversation turned, as it had many times before, upon a brace of boys who had mad...

Sang Budge through the hall next morning, and he repeated the lines over and over so many times that they at last impressed themselves upon the mind of Toddie, who asked:

The sun of the next morning arose at the outrageously unfashionable hour that he affects in June, but Mrs. Burton was up before him. Her husband had attended a town meeting the...

“Even school-teachers have two days of rest in every seven,” she said to herself, “and no one doubts that they deserve them. How much more deserving of rest and relief must be t...

Mrs. Burton’s birthday dawned brightly, and it is not surprising that as it was her first natal anniversary since her marriage to a man who had no intention or ability to cease...

The boys returned to the Burtons fast asleep, Budge in his father’s arms, and Toddie’s head pillowed on the shoulder of faithful Mike. No sound was heard from either of them unt...

“That,” murmured Mrs. Burton on Tuesday morning, as she prepared to descend to the breakfast table, “promises a pleasant day.” Then, in a louder tone, she said to her husband: “...

“Only three more days,” soliloquized Mrs. Burton, when the departure of her husband for New York and the disappearance of the boys gave her a quiet moment to herself. “Three mor...

“The beginning of the end!” was the remark with which Mr. Burton broke a short silence at his breakfast-table, on the last day of the time for which his little visitors had been...

“Another fight, I suppose,” grunted Mr. Burton in his room, “and as I’m dressed I might as well go and see which one was whipped and which ought to be.”