"Can't
trust no one. He ain't howlin'. That's his natcheral
voice when he's talkin' Rooshan. He don't know one English
word, only 'Goo!' But he'll say that every time. See now.
How is a precious luvvy-duvvy? See the pitty man, pull
um baby toofin!"
At which the czar, secure in his toothlessness, rippled
his fat face into dimples, and triumphantly brought forth
a whole succession of "goos."
"Ain't he a peach?" Pearlie said with pride. "Some kids
won't show off worth a cent when ye want them to, but
he'll say 'goo' if you even nudge him. His mother thinks
'goo' is awful childish, and she is at him all the time
to say 'Daddy-dinger,' but he never lets on he hears her.
Say, doctor"--Pearlie's face was troubled--"what do you
think of his looks? Just between ourselves. Hasn't he a
fine little nub of a nose? Do you see anything about him
to make his mother cry?"
The doctor looked critically at the czar, who returned
his gaze with stolid indifference.
"I never saw a more perfect nub on any nose," he answered
honestly. "He's a fine big boy, and his mother should be
proud of him."
"There now, what did I tell you!" Pearlie cried delightedly,
nodding her head at an imaginary audience.
"That's what I always say to his mother, but she's so
tuk up with pictures of pretty kids with big eyes and
curly hair, she don't seem to be able to get used to him.
She never says his nose is a pug, but she says it's
'different,' and his voice is not what she wanted.
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