Mame

All of the "material of war," as Mame called it, had been brought to Frank's house, so that it might be packed in one big trunk.

The Celestial looked at us solemnly: Mame toddled up to him.

He went alone, and coming home later than usual, Ted and I and baby Mame went out to meet him.

Little Mame pulled the blanket off the heap; she had been peeping under it all the while she was in the back of the wagon.

Mame laughed in her throat, smoothed her frizzed blonde hair, sold a paper of pins and an emery heart.