rn for the
hapless infant and harsh self-reproach. And yet, as Winona finished
speaking, I made the imp of a reflection that she was sending for a
doctor in spite of Christian Science, and that the scales of
hallucination had fallen from her eyes at the wail of her own flesh and
blood. I was even tempted for an instant to hazard the suggestion
that, as there is no such thing as matter, there could be nothing the
matter with baby, but I bit my tongue in the throes of my disgust at my
involuntary levity.

Harold had sped down the avenue like an arrow, but scarcely had he
disappeared before the gory streak which dabbled my poor little
victim's brow, and which had seemed to my heated imagination almost an
arterial outburst, yielded to the whisk of a pocket-handkerchief.
Although he still yelled as if his heart would break, I was beginning
to reflect that, barring the very slight scratch on his forehead, he
was more frightened than hurt, when Josephine suggested, like a true
grandmother, the possibility of internal injuries.

My heart began to throb violently once more, and my mouth to taste dry,
but Winona came to my rescue.

"Mother," she exclaimed, in a tone of stern impressiveness, "it is of
the utmost importance for baby's sake that you shouldn't think anything
of the kind, for by thinking that he has any internal injuries you
might, or I might, or father might cause the darling to think the same.
We ought all to think that he has nothing the matter with him, and then
he will soon cease to cry. Come, let us all think of other things and
take our minds off baby. Don't even look at him."

We hastened to do as we were bid. I began to whistle cheerily, and
turning my back on my precious grandson, called Josephine's attention
to the beauties of the landscape in a series of philosophic utterances.
As for Winona herself, she was Spartan enough to restore the little lad
to his baby-carriage, and to busy herself in reflecting whether the
spot of blood on her robin's-egg blue morning wrapper would wash out.
Within three minutes more Master Baby had ceased to sob, and was
playing contentedly again with the rustling autumn leaves, when the
regular practitioner who, it seemed, lived close by, arrived with
Harold at full trot. Winona rose to receive him with a sweet smile,
and said, with her old serenity: "Baby is quite well, Doctor. We all
applied Christian Science principles to his condition, and he finds
that he was in