KISSING THE ROYAL BABIES’ TOES.

Evening Star, Issue 3982, 29 November 1875, Page 3

KISSING THE ROYAL BABIES’ TOES.

In London, a i on g time ago, I used to know the nurse Of the Queen’s babies—an excellent, good person, clean, and fat, and rosy, and loving. It might occur to the uninitiated that this person was a gentlewoman, and that the Queen’s babies had real ladies as nurses. But it was not so. The royal nurse was as humble in station as the good woman who was selected to care for the sacred welfare of the heir of Dombey. One day we congratulated her on the excellence of her place. “That it is, indeed, ma’am, a good place,” replied the woman warmly; “ too good for the likes of me, and yet,” said she, her motherly bosom swelling and warm tears gashing to her honest eyes, “ it has one great trial—l am not hallowed to kiss the children. Being Royal ’lghnesses, and me an ’lreling, I am not hallowed; and w’en you love a baby, not to be hable to kiss ’im is 'ard; but—and here she brightened up considerably—“l don’t mind telling you, ma’am, for I don’t think it will go any further; though borders is borders, they can’t prevent me from a kissin’ of his little toes.” Olive Logan in * Graphic.’ ■gw— Mock Turtle: Kissing before company and quarrelling afterwards.