Mary Thacher Higginson, Thomas Wentworth Higginson: the story of his life

[303] objects: “But that has no picture.” “Papa read Baby 'at.” Papa dutifully reads—

'T is the middle of the night by the castle clock
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock.

Baby points to the stuffed owl in the hall. “Dere he are.” Then Papa reads on about the toothless mastiff bitch with illustrative “bow-wows.” Baby runs to the window, looks out and says, “Where bow-wow?” Then returning says, “Papa, play ball,” having had enough of English literature for the first time.

She has had a great access of lovingness lately. “Papa, I love you so much it breaks my heart” ; or “Papa, I shall never leave you.” ... Margaret said this morning, “What church shall I go to when I am big enough? Why do people go to church?” After some reflection I said, “To learn to be good.” After some reflection she said, “But they're good already!” —a happy conviction.

This morning she asked her favorite question, “Where God?” and when her mother said, “He is everywhere,” she answered with superior information, “He in Heabby” (Heaven) . . . . She is growing sternly speculative. “Papa dear, do the little fishes at the Botanic Garden like to be caught?” “No, dear.” “Well, they've got to be caught or how can we have fish to eat?” I do think it would be much prettier to [follow a] vegetarian [diet] in rearing children; I hate to have her kill even a mosquito, it seems to be a profanation of her own life. I tell her to drive them away as papa does—but even then I kill clothes-moths—not in her presence, though . . . . She said