The Runaway Perambulator

           IsometimesmetDavidinpublicplacessuchastheKensingtonGardens,wherehelordeditsurroundedbyhissuiteandwearingtheblankfaceandglasseyesofallcarriage-people.OntheseoccasionsIalwaysstalkedby,meditatingonhigherthings,thoughMaryseemedtothinkmeveryhardhearted,andIrene,whohadbecomehisnurse(Iforgethow,butfearIhadsomethingtodowithit),ranaftermewithmessages,as,wouldInotcallandseehiminhishomeattwelveo’clock,atwhichmoment,itseemed,hewasathisbest.

           No,Iwouldnot.

           “Hesaystick-tacktotheclock,”Irenesaid,tryingtosnareme.

           “Pooh!”saidI.

           “Otherlittle’unsjestsays’tick-tick,’”shetoldme,withaflushofpride.

           “Iprefer’tick-tick,’”Isaid,whereatshedepartedindudgeon.

           Hadtheyhadthesensetowheelhimbehindatreeandleavehim,Iwouldhavelooked,butastheylackedit,Idecidedtowaituntilhecouldwalk,whenitwouldbemoreeasytowaylayhim.However,hewasacautiouslittlegorbalwho,aftermanythreatstorise,alwaysseemedtocometotheconclusionthathemightdoworsethanremainwherehewas,andwhenhehadcompletedhisfirstyearIlostpatiencewithhim.

           “WhenIwashisage,”IsaidtoIrene,“Iwasrunningabout.”Iconsultedthemcasuallyaboutthismatterattheclub,andtheyhadallbeenrunningaboutatayearold.

           Imadethisnursethefollowingoffer:IfshewouldbringthedilatoryboytomyroomsandleavehimthereforhalfanhourIwouldlookathim.