Grown-up Talk

Half-Past-Six and I were talkingIn a very grown-up way;We had got so tired with runningThat we did not want to play.

"How do babies come, I wonder,"He said, looking at the sky,"Does God mix the things togetherAn' just make it—like a pie?"

I was really not quite certain,But it sounded very nice;It was all that we could think of,Besides a book said 'sugar and spice.'

Half-Past-Six said—he's so clever—Cleverer than me, I mean . . ."I suppose God makes the black onesWhen the saucepan isn't clean."