"I haven''t got any teeth to hurt. They have all e out. I have only got ven teeth. My mother ted them last night, and one came out right afterward. She said she''d slap me if any more came out. I ''t help it. It''s this old Europe. It''s the climate that makes them e out. In Ameribsp;they didn''t e out. It''s the hotels."
Winterbourne was mubsp;amud. "If you eat three lumps of sugar, your mother will certainly slap you," he said.
"She''s got to give me some dy, then," rejoined his young interlocutor. "I ''t get any dy here—any Ameribsp;dy. Ameribsp;dy''s the best dy."
"And are Ameribsp;little boys the best little boys?" asked Winterbourne.
"I don''t know. I''m an Ameribsp;boy," said the child.
"I e you are one of the best!" laughed Winterbourne.
"Are you an Ameribsp;man?" pursued this vivacious infant. And then, on Winterbourne''s affirmative reply—"Ameribsp;men are the best," he declared.
His panion thanked him for the pliment, and the child, who had now got astride of his alpenstobsp;stood looking about him, while he attacked a d lump of sugar. Winterbourne wondered if he himlf had been like this in his infanbsp;for he had been brought to Europe at about this age.
"Here es my sister!" cried the child in a moment. "She''s an Ameribsp;girl."
Winterbourne looked along the path and saw a beautiful young lady advang. "Ameribsp;girls are the best girls," he said cheerfully to his young panion.
"My sister ain''t the best!" the child declared. "She''s always blowing at me."
"I imagine that is your fault, not hers," said Winterbourne. The young lady meanwhile had drawn near. She was dresd in white muslin, with a hundred frills and flounces, and knots of pale-colored ribbon. She was bareheaded, but she balanbsp;in her hand a large parasol, with a deep border of embroidery; and she was strikingly, admirably pretty. "How pretty they are!" thought Winterbourne, straightening himlf in his at, as if he were prepared to ri.
The young lady paud in front of his benbsp;near the parapet of the garden, whibsp;overlooked the lake. The little boy had now verted his alpenstobsp;into a vaulting pole, by the aid of whibsp;he was springing about in the gravel and kig it up not a little.
"Randolph," said the young lady, "what ARE you doing?"
"I''m going up the Alps," replied Randolph. "This is the way!" And he gave another little jump, scattering the pebbles about Winterbourne''s ears.
"That''s the way they e down," said Winterbourne.