You see, there was not the least chance of his being stolen, or falling downstairs, or getting into any mischief whatever.

And that was where she had a great advantage over lots of mothers whom we could, think of if we tried." "But what made the steam, Uncle Andy ?" broke in the Child, somewhat irrelevantly.

He had a way, sometimes rather exasperating to the narrator, of never forgetting the loose ends in a narrative, and of calling attention to them at unexpected moments.
"Can't you see that for yourself ?" grunted Uncle Andy impatiently.

"It was breath.

Try to think for yourself a little.