said Marjorie Fielding shall never be allowed tosit, lie, recline, or rest upon the floor, nor upon any rug, blanket,or other covering upon the said floor.' What I want to know is, how thechild is to learn to creep if she isn't to be allowed on the floor."
The committee looked at itself questioningly. Miss Loring giggled. MissWiles alone saved the day.
"You will, of course," she said, haughtily, "give the child her lessonsin creeping upon a table. Mrs. Fielding will see that one is provided."
When the committee was gone Chiswick walked over to the crib whereMarjorie lay and looked at her doubtfully. According to the schedule acreep was due from Marjorie in six weeks and Marjorie had only learnedthe art of sitting alone. Sitting alone at seven months is not badprogress for an incubator baby and Marjorie was rather proud of it.
"Well," said Chiswick, "you've got to do it, and if you've got to do ityou might as well begin to learn now."
Marjorie was lifted and deposited upon her rotund little stomach, whichprotruded so much that she rocked back and forth upon it like a helplesshobby horse. She looked up at Chiswick appealingly but saw only a sterntaskmistress.
"Lie that way a while," said Chiswick coldly. "Get used to it," and shewent away.
Marjorie laid her cheek on the cool sheet and thought. It was a ratherpleasant position. It gave her a comfortable compressed sensation belowthe waist. She liked it but she could not afford to be idle. She raisedher head and peered around, as a tortoise peers, lengthening her neck. Afoot beyond her reach she saw her rattle. She stretched her hands forit and only succeeded in bringing her pudgy little nose flat against thesheet. She kicked with her feet, but even that did not bring the rattlewithin reach; it only served to rock her gently to and fro on herstomach. Marjorie needed the rattle. She had still several hundredshakes to give it before her day's work would be complete. And therattle needed Marjorie; it looked forlorn and lonely. Even as sheconsidered the matter Marjorie found that she was raising her body onher plump little arms. They were acting like little posts to elevateher shoulders and head. Then, in a most phenomenal way, one knee doubleditself and drew up under her body, and the other followed it, and shewas on her hands and knees.
From this frightfully elevated position the rattle appeared quite near,so near that it seemed as if she could touch it. She put out a hand, andlo! the whole fabric of herself that she had reared, collapsed, and shewas sprawled flat on the sheet.
But the rattle certainly seemed nearer. She tried it again, and thistime she put her hand forward only a little way, and followed it withthe other, but she was firmly anchored at the rear, and there was noelasticity in her body. It would not stretch another inch. She thoughtof her legs reproachfully. But for them she might even now have therattle. Her legs felt the reproach and wiggled with shame. They knewthey were in disgrace and they longed to come closer and nestle lovinglyagainst Marjorie. One of them moved forward slowly and paused. Itsfellow, fearing it was being deserted, moved up beside it, but cruelMarjorie moved her hands forward again.
She could almost touch the rattle! One more forward movement of her legsand--
Chiswick, turning, saw it just in time. She was beside the crib in onebound, and her right hand pressed down upon Marjorie and squeezed herdeep into the softness of the crib, and held her there kicking andsquealing.
"Land sakes!" cried Chiswick. "You're breaking the schedule! You can'tcreep now. The idea! What will that there committee say! What willthey say of you to that federation of clubs! You and me won't have noreputation left. Don't you ever creep till I say so. Never!"
She picked up the offended Marjorie and set her upright in the end ofthe crib. Marjorie rolled over upon her hands and knees. She wanted therattle. She scoffed at schedules. Chiswick held her down with one handand reached for the rattle with the other.
"Now I've got to watch you day and night," she grumbled, "or we'll behaving resolutions made about us, and things voted, and land knows what!You'd break the whole constitution and by-laws, you would."
Marjorie smiled gleefully, and struggled to free herself. Chiswick tiedher to the head of the crib with a strip of antiseptic bandage; andentered in the day book: "Tried to creep; restrained by nurse."
Tied her to the head of the crib 78]
When the committee met again they passed a resolution of thanks toChiswick for her prompt action, and Marjorie's private secretary enteredit on the records. As she wrote the last word she looked at Marjorie andwinked, and Marjorie smiled wickedly.
There were hours when Chiswick was off duty, and then the privatesecretary was left alone in charge of Marjorie, and those were hoursof riotous living. The private secretary was scientific--as abookkeeper--but as a nurse she was ignorantly human.
She scoffed at the Higher Life for Women; she ate candy and avoided asmuch as possible her physical good. She refused to be emancipated. Shehad an idea it meant something in the way of doing without lacing andwearing shoes a size too large for one.
So when she was left alone with Marjorie they had a good time. They saton the floor and imbibed germs, and they did all sorts of unscientific,retrogressive things. Perhaps that was why Marjorie remained a sweet,cheerful baby instead of becoming a sour little old woman.
One evening when Chiswick was away the private secretary and Marjoriewere having a romp on the floor of the nursery. It was a handicap race,a creeping match, and the private secretary was handicapped by herskirts. The two were so interested that they did not hear the nurserydoor open. When Marjorie had won the twenty-foot dash the privatesecretary turned, and blushed with confusion and guilt. Mr. Fieldingstood in the doorway! A frown darkened his brow and he looked at theprivate secretary with severity.
Miss Vickers sprang to her feet hastily and brushed out the folds of herskirt.
"Well!" exclaimed Mr. Fielding. "So this is how you behave! This is whatyou may be expected to do when you are trusted alone with the child!What do you suppose Mrs. Fielding and the committee would say?"
The private secretary laughed. Marjorie laughed and clapped her hands.Mr. Fielding frowned and picked Marjorie up. He put her in the crib, andMarjorie, rudely taken from her playmate by this stern man, lifted upher voice and wailed. She turned red in the face and howled. There was aswish of silk skirts--which never should be worn in the nursery--a rushof feet, and a hand pushed Mr. Fielding aside. With one sweep of herarms the private secretary gathered Marjorie to her breast.
"What did you do to her?" she cried. "Much you know about babies, andall your silly committees!"
Mr. Fielding paused irresolute. Marjorie cooed gently in her protector'sarms, and her father looked at her curiously.
"You--you don't believe in scientific motherhood?" he said to MissVickers. He seemed to be asking for information; seeking light on aquestion that had already raised itself in his mind.
"'Scientific' doesn't hurt any, but it needs some mother with it," shereplied. "See her smile!" Mr. Fielding leaned forward cautiously.
"She does, doesn't she?" he said, with curiosity. "I never saw thatbefore. It is quite interesting."
"It's great!" exclaimed the private secretary. "You take her a minuteand I'll show you something else."
Mr. Fielding took her, carefully.
The private secretary clapped her hands and Marjorie looked toward her.
"Two hands, baby," she said, and the two pink arms reached out to her.
"Well!" exclaimed Mr. Fielding, "How human!"
"See if she will do it for you," suggested the girl.
Mr. Fielding clapped his hands. "Two hands!" he said.
Marjorie looked at him good naturedly. If he was willing to play shecould forgive everything. She reached out her hands, and jumped towardher father. Before he knew how it happened, he had pressed his lips toher soft cheek and her hands were entangled in his hair.
On his hands and knees playing peek-boo 88]
When the doorbell rang, half an hour later, Mr. Fielding was on hishands and knees playing "peek-boo!" with Marj
orie. Miss Vickers swepther into her crib and helped him to arise hastily. Then she pushed himtoward the door.
"It is Chiswick!" she whispered. "Hurry!"
"Yes!" he whispered in return. "We--we will keep this matter private? Itis not necessary to inform any one."
The private secretary watched him nervously while he gave Marjorie alast, long kiss, and then she pushed him gently from the nursery. Shereally had to push him out.
When Mrs. Fielding was appointed to read a paper on ScientificMotherhood at the annual convention of the national federation ofWomen's clubs, she accepted the task with due modesty but not without asense of complete fitness. Her mere presence in the distant conventioncity would in itself be a proof of the correctness
The Incubator Baby Page 4