ch he says how delighted he shall be ought surely to move even
a mother's heart, unless, as I am inclined to believe, the whole
proceeding is a mere device adopted by wives to discourage the visits of
bachelor friends.

It is a cruel trick, though, whatever its excuse may be. The bell is
rung and somebody sent to tell nurse to bring baby down. This is the
signal for all the females present to commence talking "baby," during
which time you are left to your own sad thoughts and the speculations
upon the practicability of suddenly recollecting an important
engagement, and the likelihood of your being believed if you do.
Just when you have concocted an absurdly implausible tale about a
man outside, the door opens, and a tall, severe-looking woman enters,
carrying what at first sight appears to be a particularly skinny
bolster, with the feathers all at one end. Instinct, however, tells
you that this is the baby, and you rise with a miserable attempt at
appearing eager. When the first gush of feminine enthusiasm with which
the object in question is received has died out, and the number of
ladies talking at once has been reduced to the ordinary four or five,
the circle of fluttering petticoats divides, and room is made for you
to step forward. This you do with much the same air that you would walk
into the dock at Bow Street, and then, feeling unutterably miserable,
you stand solemnly staring at the child. There is dead silence, and you
know that every one is waiting for you to speak. You try to think
of something to say, but find, to your horror, that your reasoning
faculties have left you. It is a moment of despair, and your evil
genius, seizing the opportunity, suggests to you some of the most
idiotic remarks that it is possible for a human being to perpetrate.
Glancing round with an imbecile smile, you sniggeringly observe that "it
hasn't got much hair has it?" Nobody answers you for a minute, but at
last the stately nurse says with much gravity:

"It is not customary for children five weeks old to have long hair."
Another silence follows this, and you feel you are being given a second
chance, which you avail yourself of by inquiring if it can walk yet, or
what they feed it on.

By this time you have got to be regarded as not quite right in your
head, and pity is the only thing felt for you. The nurse, however, is
determined that, insane or not, there shall be no shirking and that you
shall go through your task to the e