CHAPTER II
THE FORTUNE TELLER
October, October, you gay little rover,
You are welcome, the wide world over;
Merrily, merrily, school-bells ring
And children all delight to sing.
The Ink-Bottle Babies are absent to-day,
Or perhaps they lingered upon the way;
I heard the Ink-Bottle Babies sigh,
“We are busy bidding the birds good-bye!”
The Ink-Bottle Babies woke up cross. Every one of them got up out of the wrong side of the bed!
The Ink-Bottle Mamma called, “Hurry, hurry, or you will all be late to school!”
Then Molly called, “I can’t find my shoes,” and Polly called, “I can’t find my dress,” and all the Ink-Bottle Babies set up such a wail that the Ink-Bottle Mamma had to come upstairs and help them dress.
She said, “My dear children, will you never grow up?”
“Give us a ride, please!”
When they sat down at the table, Molly said, “I don’t want this oatmeal,” and Polly said, “I don’t want any either.”
Then all the Ink-Bottle Babies said, “We don’t want any oatmeal!”
They laid down their twenty-five little spoons. And will you believe it? Not one of the Babies would eat any breakfast!
Then the Ink-Bottle Mamma said, “Get down from your chairs, every one of you.”
The Ink-Bottle Babies got down from their chairs, pouting
