The Adventures of Herr Baby   By: Mrs. Molesworth (1839-1921)

by

MRS. MOLESWORTH

Author of 'Carrots,' 'Us,' Etc.

'I have a boy of five years old: His face is fair and fresh to see.' WORDSWORTH

Illustrated by Walter Crane

[Illustration: There was Baby, seated on the grass, one arm fondly clasping Minet's neck, while with the other he firmly held the famous money box. P. 138.]

London Macmillan and Co. and New York 1895

First printed (4to) 1881 Reprinted (Globe 8vo) 1886, 1887, 1890, 1892, 1895

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. FOUR YEARS OLD 1

CHAPTER II. INSIDE A TRUNK 20

CHAPTER III. UP IN THE MORNING EARLY 41

CHAPTER IV. GOING AWAY 60

CHAPTER V. BY LAND AND SEA 81

CHAPTER VI. AN OLD SHOP AND AN OGRE 101

CHAPTER VII. BABY'S SECRET 125

CHAPTER VIII. FOUND 145

CHAPTER IX. "EAST OR WEST, HAME IS BEST" 163

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"OH LOOK, LOOK, BABY'S MADE PEEPY SNOOZLE INTO 'THE PARSON IN THE PULPIT THAT COULDN'T SAY HIS PRAYERS,'" CRIED DENNY 6

HE SAT WITH ONE ARM PROPPED ON THE TABLE, AND HIS ROUND HEAD LEANING ON HIS HAND, WHILE THE OTHER HELD THE PIECE OF BREAD AND BUTTER BUTTER DOWNWARDS, OF COURSE 16

THERE WAS ONE TRUNK WHICH TOOK MY FANCY MORE THAN ALL THE OTHERS 30

FOR A MINUTE OR TWO BABY COULD NOT MAKE OUT WHAT HAD HAPPENED 50

"ZOU WILL P'OMISE, BETSY, P'OMISE CERTAIN SURE, NEBBER TO FORGET" 61

POOR LITTLE BOYS, FOR, AFTER ALL, FRITZ HIMSELF WASN'T VERY BIG! THEY STOOD TOGETHER HAND IN HAND ON THE STATION PLATFORM, LOOKING, AND FEELING, RATHER DESOLATE 84

"ARE THAT JOGRAPHY?" HE SAID 94

"OH AUNTIE," HE SAID, "P'EASE 'TOP ONE MINUTE. HIM SEES SHINY GLASS JUGS LIKE DEAR LITTLE MOTHER'S. OH, DO 'TOP" 106

BABY VENTURED TO PEEP ROUND. THE LITTLE BLACK EYED WHITE CAPPED MAN CAME TOWARDS THEM SMILING 121

THERE WAS BABY, SEATED ON THE GRASS, ONE ARM FONDLY CLASPING MINET'S NECK, WHILE WITH THE OTHER HE FIRMLY HELD THE FAMOUS MONEY BOX 138

AUNTIE STOOD STILL A MOMENT TO LISTEN 155

FORGETTING ALL ABOUT EVERYTHING, EXCEPT THAT HER BABY WAS FOUND, UP JUMPED MOTHER 170

THE ADVENTURES OF HERR BABY

CHAPTER I.

FOUR YEARS OLD

"I was four yesterday; when I'm quite old I'll have a cricket ball made of pure gold; I'll never stand up to show that I'm grown; I'll go at liberty upstairs or down."

He trotted upstairs. Perhaps trotting is not quite the right word, but I can't find a better. It wasn't at all like a horse or pony trotting, for he went one foot at a time, right foot first, and when right foot was safely landed on a step, up came left foot and the rest of Baby himself after right foot. It took a good while, but Baby didn't mind. He used to think a good deal while he was going up and down stairs, and it was not his way to be often in a hurry. There was one thing he could not bear, and that was any one trying to carry him upstairs. Oh, that did vex him! His face used to get quite red, right up to the roots of his curly hair, and down to the edge of the big collar of his sailor suit, for he had been put into sailor suits last Christmas, and, if the person who was lifting him up didn't let go all at once, Baby would begin to wriggle. He was really clever at wriggling; even if you knew his way it was not easy to hold him, and with any one that didn't know his way he could get off in half a minute.