o childless couples everywhere I would say with all the force I can
employ, _adopt a baby_! If you would make glorious the home you are
building; if you would fill its rooms with laughter and contentment; if
you would make your house more than a place in which to eat and sleep;
if you would fill it with happy memories and come yourselves into a
closer and more perfect union, adopt a baby! Then, in a year or two,
adopt another. He who spends money on a little child is investing it to
real purpose; and the dividends it pays in pride and happiness and
contentment are beyond computation.

Marjorie came to us when she was three years old. She bubbled over with
mirth and laughter and soothed the ache in our hearts. She filled the
little niches and comers of our lives with her sweetness, and became not
only ours in name, but ours also in love and its actualities.

There were those who suggested that we were too young to adopt a child.
They told us that the other children would undoubtedly be sent to us as
time went on. I have neither the space here nor the inclination to list
the imaginary difficulties outlined to us as the possibilities of
adoption.

But Mother and I talked it all over one evening. And we decided that we
needed Marjorie, and Marjorie needed us. As to the financial side of the
question, I smiled.

"I never heard of anyone going to the poorhouse, or into bankruptcy," I
said, "because of the money spent on a child. I fancy I can pay the
bills."

That settled it. The next evening when I came home, down the stairway
leading to our flat came the cry, "Hello, Daddy!" from one of the
sweetest little faces I have ever seen. And from that day, until God
needed her more and called her home, that "Hello, Daddy" greeted me and
made every care worth while.

The little home had begun to grow in beauty once more. That first
shopping tour for Marjorie stands out as an epoch in our lives. I am not
of the right sex to describe it. Marjorie came to us with only such
clothing as a poor mother could provide. She must be outfitted anew from
head to toe, and she was. The next evening, when she greeted me, she was
the proud possessor of more lovely things than she had ever known
before. But, beautiful as the little face appeared to me then, more
beautiful was the look in Mother's face. There had come into her eyes a
look of happiness which had been absent for many months. I learned then,
and I state it now as a positive fact,