d him like one, a rather
dangerous one, at arm's length, and like a parcel he was deposited
about, sometimes among rolls of carpeting on the deck, or on beer casks,
while his father and mother were hanging over the boat's rail staring at
castles and ruins, or reading up in the guide-book; sometimes happed up
in a shawl on the floor, or on a bed made up on chairs, his head on the
lowest one, his mother craning her head out at window to lose no bit of
river scenery. One day I nearly sat down upon him, as he was left, quite
by himself, lying across a camp-chair; wherever, in unexpected,
impossible corners, one stumbled upon a solitary gray object, it was
sure to be this poor mite, bemoaning himself for having come into a
place so full of cold, wet, sour smells and stomach-ache--a place where
he wasn't wanted, and nobody had time to look after him.

"Name's Malise, eh?" said Ronayne. "_Malaise_, if that poor little
beggar knows anything about it"; and "little Malaise" we always call
the child.

"Cries? What's he to do but cry?" burst out nurse one day in high
indignation. "There's that silly woman as thinks a young baby must only
have three meals a day like grown folks; and so she's off a-tramping
about the deck, and leaving him here a-sucking at an empty bottle, and
filling himself as full of wind as he can hold! And there's _them
things_ (nurse's favorite euphuism for an article of attire she
detests) as is hardly ever changed, and him sopping wet most of the
time! I should like to whip her!"

I think Mrs. Malise is a good deal drawn toward me for two or three
reasons. She has found out that I've been an artist--lived by myself,
had my studio, paid my way--and she accordingly respects me as a member
of the sisterhood who's at least tried to do something. Then I agree far
too closely with St. Paul, and she "don't altogether hold with Paul,"
and wants to convert me to whatever form of kaleidoscopic non-belief she
cherishes. Then I'm too luke-warm about the suffrage. I admit that I see
no reason why I shouldn't have it, but I don't and can't see in my
having it the panacea for all social ills. I'm asked what I think of
Hodge in England, and Terence and Scip in the United States getting
rights withheld educated women citizens; and I can only plead pitifully
that while Hodge and Terence and Scip are ignorant and boorish, I,
having already roughed it a good deal, would rather individually not
contest anything very closely wi