I cannot feel that I have done my duty as humble historianof the March family, without devoting at least one chapter tothe two most precious and important members of it. Daisy andDemi had now arrived at years of discretion, for in this fastage babies of three or four assert their rights, and get them,too, which is more than many of their elders do. If thereever were a pair of twins in danger of being utterly spoiledby adoration, it was these prattling Brookes. Of course theywere the most remarkable children ever born, as will be shownwhen I mention that they walked at eight months, talked fluentlyat twelve months, and at two years they took their placesat table, and behaved with a propriety which charmed all beholders.At three, Daisy demanded a 'needler', and actually madea bag with four stitches in it. She likewise set uphousekeeping in the sideboard, and managed a microscopic cookingstove with a skill that brought tears of pride to Hannah'seyes, while Demi learned his letters with his grandfather, whoinvented a new mode of teaching the alphabet by forming letterswith his arms and legs, thus uniting gymnastics for head andheels. The boy early developed a mechanical genius which delightedhis father and distracted his mother, for he tried toimitate every machine he saw, and kept the nursery in a chaoticcondition, with his 'sewinsheen', a mysterious structure ofstring, chairs, clothespins, and spools, for wheels to go'wound and wound'. Also a basket hung over the back of a chair,in which he vainly tried to hoist his too confiding sister, who,with feminine devotion, allowed her little head to be bumped tillrescued, when the young inventor indignantly remarked, "Why,Marmar, dat's my lellywaiter, and me's trying to pull her up."

Though utterly unlike in character, the twins got on remarkablywell together, and seldom quarreled more than thricea day. Of course, Demi tyrannized over Daisy, and gallantlydefended her from every other aggressor, while Daisy made agalley slave of herself, and adored her brother as the one perfectbeing in the world. A rosy, chubby, sunshiny little soulwas Daisy, who found her way to everybody's heart, and nestledthere. One of the captivating children, who seem made to bekissed and cuddled, adorned and adored like little goddesses,and produced for general approval on all festive occasions.Her small virtues were so sweet that she would have been quiteangelic if a few small naughtinesses had not kept her delightfullyhuman. It was all fair weather in her world, and everymorning she scrambled up to the window in her little nightgownto look out, and say, no matter whether it rained or shone,"Oh, pitty day, oh, pitty day!" Everyone was a friend, and sheoffered kisses to a stranger so confidingly that the most inveteratebachelor relented, and baby-lovers became faithful worshipers.

"Me loves evvybody," she once said, opening her arms, withher spoon in one hand, and her mug in the other, as if eager toembrace and nourish the whole world.

As she grew, her mother began to feel that the Dovecotewould be blessed by the presence of an inmate as serene and lovingas that which had helped to make the old house home, and topray that she might be spared a loss like that which had latelytaught them how long they had entertained an angel unawares. Hergrandfather often called her 'Beth', and her grandmother watchedover her with untiring devotion, as if trying to atone for somepast mistake, which no eye but her own could see.

Demi, like a true Yankee, was of an inquiring turn, wantingto know everything, and often getting much disturbed because hecould not get satisfactory answers to his perpetual "What for?"

He also possessed a philosophic bent, to the great delight ofhis grandfather, who used to hold Socratic conversations with him,in which the precocious pupil occasionally posed his teacher, tothe undisguised satisfaction of the womenfolk.

"What makes my legs go, Dranpa?" asked the young philosopher,surveying those active portions of his frame with a meditative air,while resting after a go-to-bed frolic one night.

"It's your little mind, Demi," replied the sage, stroking theyellow head respectfully.

"What is a little mine?"

"It is something which makes your body move, as the springmade the wheels go in my watch when I showed it to you."

"Open me. I want to see it go wound."

"I can't do that any more than you could open the watch. Godwinds you up, and you go till He stops you."

"Does I?" and Demi's brown eyes grew big and bright as hetook in the new thought. "Is I wounded up like the watch?"

"Yes, but I can't show you how, for it is done when we don't see."

Demi felt his back, as if expecting to find it like that ofthe watch, and then gravely remarked, "I dess Dod does it whenI's asleep."

A careful explanation followed, to which he listened so attentivelythat his anxious grandmother said, "My dear, do you think it wiseto talk about such things to that baby? He's getting great bumpsover his eyes, and learning to ask the most unanswerable questions."

"If he is old enough to ask the question he is old enough toreceive true answers. I am not putting the thoughts into hishead, but helping him unfold those already there. These childrenare wiser than we are, and I have no doubt the boy understandsevery word I have said to him. Now, Demi, tell me where you keepyour mind."

If the boy had replied like Alcibiades, "By the gods, Socrates,I cannot tell," his grandfather would not have been surprised, butwhen, after standing a moment on one leg, like a meditative youngstork, he answered, in a tone of calm conviction, "In my littlebelly," the old gentleman could only join in Grandma's laugh, anddismiss the class in metaphysics.

There might have been cause for maternal anxiety, if Demi hadnot given convincing proofs that he was a true boy, as well as abudding philosopher, for often, after a discussion which causedHannah to prophesy, with ominous nods, "That child ain't long forthis world," he would turn about and set her fears at rest bysome of the pranks with which dear, dirty, naughty little rascalsdistract and delight their parent's souls.

Meg made many moral rules, and tried to keep them, but whatmother was ever proof against the winning wiles, the ingeniousevasions, or the tranquil audacity of the miniature men and womenwho so early show themselves accomplished Artful Dodgers?

"No more raisins, Demi. They'll make you sick," says Mammato the young person who offers his services in the kitchen withunfailing regularity on plum-pudding day.

"Me likes to be sick."

"I don't want to have you, so run away and help Daisy make patty cakes."

He reluctantly departs, but his wrongs weigh upon his spirit,and by-and-by when an opportunity comes to redress them, he outwitsMamma by a shrewd bargain.

"Now you have been good children, and I'll play anything youlike," says Meg, as she leads her assistant cooks upstairs, whenthe pudding is safely bouncing in the pot.

"Truly, Marmar?" asks Demi, with a brilliant idea in hiswell-powdered head.

"Yes, truly. Anything you say," replies the shortsighted parent,preparing herself to sing, "The Three Little Kittens" half a dozentimes over, or to take her family to "Buy a penny bun," regardlessof wind or limb. But Demi corners her by the cool reply . . .

"Then we'll go and eat up all the raisins."

Aunt Dodo was chief playmate and confidante of both children,and the trio turned the little house topsy-turvy. Aunt Amy was asyet only a name to them, Aunt Beth soon faded into a pleasantlyvague memory, but Aunt Dodo was a living reality, and they made themost of her, for which compliment she was deeply grateful. Butwhen Mr. Bhaer came, Jo neglected her playfellows, and dismay anddesolation fell upon their little souls. Daisy, who was fond ofgoing about peddling kisses, lost her best customer and becamebankrupt. Demi, with infantile penetration, soon discovered thatDodo like to play with 'the bear-man' better than she did him,but though hurt, he concealed his anguish, for he hadn't theheart to insult a rival who kept a mine of chocolate drops inhis waistcoat pocket, and a watch that could be taken out of itscase and freely shaken by ardent admirers.

Some persons might have considered these pleasing libertiesas bribes, but Demi didn't see it in that light, and continued topatronize the 'the bear-man' with pensive affability, while Daisybestowed her small affections upon him at the third call, andconsidered his shoulder her throne, his arm her refuge, his giftstreasures surpassing worth.

Gentlemen are sometimes seized with sudden fits of admiration forthe young relatives of ladies whom they honor with their regard, butthis counterfeit philoprogenitiveness sits uneasily upon them, anddoes not deceive anybody a particle. Mr. Bhaer's devotion wassincere, however likewise effective - for honesty is the best policyin love as in law. He was one of the men who are at home withchildren, and looked particularly well when little faces made apleasant contrast with his manly one. His business, whatever it was,detained him from day to day, but evening seldom failed to bring himout to see - well, he always asked for Mr. March, so I suppose he wasthe attraction. The excellent papa labored under the delusion thathe was, and reveled in long discussions with the kindred spirit,till a chance remark of his more observing grandson suddenlyenlightened him.

Mr. Bhaer came in one evening to pause on the threshold of thestudy, astonished by the spectacle that met his eye. Prone uponthe floor lay Mr. March, with his respectable legs in the air, andbeside him, likewise prone, was Demi, trying to imitate the attitudewith his own short, scarlet-stockinged legs, both grovelersso seriously absorbed that they were unconscious of spectators,till Mr. Bhaer laughed his sonorous laugh, and Jo cried out, witha scandalized face . . .

"Father, Father, here's the Professor!"

Down went the black legs and up came the gray head, as thepreceptor said, with undisturbed dignity, "Good evening, Mr. Bhaer.Excuse me for a moment. We are just finishing our lesson. Now, Demi,make the letter and tell its name."

"I knows him!" and, after a few convulsive efforts, the redlegs took the shape of a pair of compasses, and the intelligentpupil triumphantly shouted, "It's a We, Dranpa, it's a We!"

"He's a born Weller," laughed Jo, as her parent gathered himselfup, and her nephew tried to stand on his head, as the onlymode of expressing his satisfaction that school was over.

"What have you been at today, bubchen?" asked Mr. Bhaer,picking up the gymnast.

"Me went to see little Mary."

"And what did you there?"

"I kissed her," began Demi, with artless frankness.

"Prut! Thou beginnest early. What did the little Mary sayto that?" asked Mr. Bhaer, continuing to confess the young sinner,who stood upon the knee, exploring the waistcoat pocket.

"Oh, she liked it, and she kissed me, and I liked it. Don'tlittle boys like little girls?" asked Demi, with his mouth full,and an air of bland satisfaction.

"You precocious chick! Who put that into your head?" said Jo,enjoying the innocent revelation as much as the Professor.

"'Tisn't in mine head, it's in mine mouf," answered literalDemi, putting out his tongue, with a chocolate drop on it, thinkingshe alluded to confectionery, not ideas.

"Thou shouldst save some for the little friend. Sweets tothe sweet, mannling," and Mr. Bhaer offered Jo some, with a lookthat made her wonder if chocolate was not the nectar drunk by thegods. Demi also saw the smile, was impressed by it, and artlessyinquired. ..

"Do great boys like great girls, to, 'Fessor?"

Like young Washington, Mr. Bhaer 'couldn't tell a lie', sohe gave the somewhat vague reply that he believed they did sometimes,in a tone that made Mr. March put down his clothesbrush,glance at Jo's retiring face, and then sink into his chair, lookingas if the 'precocious chick' had put an idea into his headthat was both sweet and sour.

Why Dodo, when she caught him in the china closet half anhour afterward, nearly squeezed the breath out of his little bodywith a tender embrace, instead of shaking him for being there,and why she followed up this novel performance by the unexpectedgift of a big slice of bread and jelly, remained one of the problemsover which Demi puzzled his small wits, and was forced toleave unsolved forever.