Year: 1874

She brought it over to our house,
Mrs. Bascomb did. 1t was their first
wee, red-faced, red-headed, pug
noseG, bowling infant. 1t was one of
the hottest days in July, but she had it
wrapped up in three shawls and bed
quilt, and was in agony every moment
for fear it would sneeze.


"Do see his darling, darling little
face p she said to me as she unwound
him about forty times and looked to see
which end his feet were on.


I looked. I have been the father of
eleven just such bowling little wopsies,
and 1 don't see anything remarkable
about Bascomb's baby.


"See those eyes (; that firmness of
mouth that temper in his look !" she
went on.


I saw them.


The little boy began to get red in the
face and to beat the air, and his mother
shouted:


81 know he won't ive-he's too
small ~


The child recovered, and, as he lay on
his back across her knees and surveyed
the ceiling, she went on /:


"Such head Why, everyone who
sees him says that he is going to be a
Beecher. Do you notice that high fore
head ?"


I did. I thought he was all fore
head, as his hair didn't commence to
grow until the back of his neck was
reached but she assured me that was
mistaken


Wouldn't I just heft him oncep"


hefted him.


L told her that l never saw child of
his weight weigh so much, and she
smiled like an angel. She said that she
was afraid didn't appreciate children,
but now she knew did.


"Wouldn't I just look at his darling
little feet-his little red feet and cum
ming toes ?"


Yes, I would.


She rolled him over on his face and
unwound his feet, and triumphantly
held them up to my gaze. I contem-
plated the hundreds of little wrinkles
running lengthwise and crosswise-the
big toes and the little toes, and 1 agreed
with her that, SO far as I could Judge
from the feet, and the toes and the
wrinkles, future of unexampled bril-
liancy lay before the pug-nosed imp.


He began to kick and howl, and she
stood him up, laid him down, and
trotted him until she bounced his wind
collie into the middle of September.


Whom did he look like ?"


l bent over the scarlet faced rascal.
pushed his nose one side, chucked him
under the chin, and didn't answer with
out due deliberation. 1 told her that
there was faint resemblance to George
Washington around the mouth, but the
eyes reminded me nf n~-iO1 TroDotor,
while the general features had made me
think of the poet Milton ever since she
entered the house.


That was just her view exactly,
only she hadn't said anything about it
before.


"Did I think he was too smart to
live %


felt of his ears, rubbed his head.
put my finger down the back of his
neck, and I told her that, in my hum
BILE opinion, he wasn't, though he had
a narrow escape. If his nose had been
set little more to one side, or his ears
had appeared in the place of his eyes,
Bascomb could have purchased weed
for his hat without delay. No; the
child would live. There wasn't the least
doubt of it, and any man or woman
who said he wouldn't grow up to
make the world thunder with his fame
would steal the wool off lamb in
January.


She felt SO happy that she rolled the
imp up in his forty-nine bandages,
shook him to straighten his legs and
take the kink out of his neck, and then
carried him home under her arm, while
my wife made me go along with an UNI
brella, for fear the sun would peel his
little nose.