just born and of those who are about to die.
"Is he ill?" the secretary softly asked the manager, who had drawn
near.
"Not in the least," replied the audacious Pompon, and he walked to the
cradle, poked the little one playfully with his finger, rearranged the
pillow, and said in a hearty, affectionate voice, albeit a little
roughly: "Well, old fellow?" Roused from his stupor, emerging from the
torpor which already enveloped him, the little fellow opened his eyes
and looked at the faces bending over him, with sullen indifference,
then, returning to his dream which he deemed more attractive, clenched
his little wrinkled hands and heaved an inaudible sigh. Oh! mystery!
Who can say for what purpose that child was born? To suffer two months
and to go away without seeing or understanding anything, before anyone
had heard the sound of his voice!
"How pale he is!" muttered M. de La Perriere, himself as pale as death.
The Nabob, too, was as white as a sheet. A cold breath had passed over
them. The manager assumed an indifferent air.
"It's the reflection. We all look green."
"To be sure--to be sure," said Jenkins, "it's the reflection of the
pond. Just come and look, Monsieur le Secretaire." And he led him to
the window to point out the great sheet of water in which the willows
dipped their branches, while Madame Polge hastily closed the curtains
of his cradle upon the little Wallachian's never-ending dream.
They must proceed quickly to inspect other portions of the
establishment in order to do away with that unfortunate impression.
First they show M. de La Perriere the magnificent laundry, with
presses, drying machines, thermometers, huge closets of polished walnut
full of caps and nightgowns, tied together and labelled by dozens. When
the linen was well warmed the laundress passed it out through a little
wicket in exchange for the number passed in by the nurse. As you see,
the system was perfect, and everything, even to the strong smell of
lye, combined to give the room a healthy, country-like aspect. There
were garments enough there to clothe five hundred children. That was
the capacity of Bethlehem, and everything was provided on that basis:
the vast dispensary, gleaming with glass jars and Latin inscriptions,
with marble pestles in every corner; the hydropathic arrangements with
the great stone tanks, the shining tubs, the immense apparatus
traversed by pipes of all lengths for the ascending and descending
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