noon
I think I must go hunt up their mammas , and beg them to give their little sensitive plants more air and sunshine , to make them hardy . Dear me ! the mammas here are never at home . Some are in the great ladies ' saloon -LRB- bright with gilding and mirrors , -RRB- in Broadway , sipping red `` cordial , '' eating sugared wine drops and French cakes , and chattering with the gentlemen ; some are at Madam Modeste 's , planning a new ball dress , and talking about feathers and fashions ; some are looking at a set of diamonds at the jewellers ; and some are still in bed , although it is high noon , because they danced themselves so weary last night . So , poor little things , I suppose you must stay in your heated nurseries , bleaching like potato sprouts in a dark cellar , till Molly or Betty think best to let you out . Well , Aunt Fanny would be _ so _ glad to tie a little sun-bonnet on your head , put on a dress loose enough to run in , and take you off into the country a while . She 'd show you little cups and saucers , made of acorns , that would beat all they have in the Broadway toy-shops , -LRB- and cost you nothing , either -RRB- ; and soft , green seats of moss , embroidered with little golden flowers , much handsomer than any the upholsterer could put in your mamma 's drawing room , -LRB- and which never fade in the sunlight -RRB- ; then she 'd show you a pretty picture of bright green fields , where a silver stream goes dancing through , where little fish dart beneath , where the heated cattle come to drink , and the little birds dip their wings , then are off and away !