Deliberately putting down his sticks , the child took the cake , and , composing himself upon the step , answered with his rosy mouth full , -- `` I am papa 's boy . He makes a paper . I help him a great deal . '' `` What is his name ? '' `` Mr. Barlow . We live in Springfield , '' volunteered the new guest , unbending a trifle , thanks to the charms of the cake . `` Have you a mamma , dear ? '' `` She takes naps . I go to walk then . '' `` Without leave , I suspect . Have you no brothers or sisters to go with you ? '' asked Miss Celia , wondering where the little runaway belonged . `` I have two brothers , Thomas Merton Barlow and Harry Sanford Barlow . I am Alfred Tennyson Barlow . We do n't have any girls in our house , only Bridget . '' `` Do n't you go to school ? '' `` The boys do . I do n't learn any Greeks and Latins yet . I dig , and read to mamma , and make poetrys for her . '' `` Could n't you make some for me ?
I 'm very fond of XXXXX , '' proposed Miss Celia , seeing that this prattle amused the children .
Barlow Bridget Celia Greeks Latins Springfield girls house poetrys thanks