"I don't believe you'd hurt me much, papa," said she, nestling close
to his side.
The father folded her tightly in his arms, lifting her to a seat
upon his knee.
"I don't believe I would, little Sunshine. Well, then, sometimes,
instead of pinches, they give little girls as many kisses as they
are years old. How will that do?"
The rosy mouth, gathering for a kiss, answered without words; but
Mr. Legrange, taking the dimpled face between his hands, said,--
"No, no! we must go on deliberately. One for the forehead, two for
the eyes,--that makes three; one for each cheek makes five; and now
the last and best for the lips makes six. Next year, there will be
another for the chin, and, after that, one in each ear: won't that
be nice?"
"And mamma? Hasn't Sunshine any kisses for her this morning?" asked
Mrs. Legrange.
The child slid from her father's knee to the floor, and, with her
arms round her mother's neck, whispered,--
"I'll give mamma all these kisses papa just gave me, and some more
too."
And for a minute or two it would have been hard to say to which head
the showery golden curls belonged, or which pair of lips was the
kisser's, and which the kissed; while the Sun fairly danced with
delight as he wrapped the two in a beautiful golden mantle woven of
his choicest beams.
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