"'Mrs. Steavens,' Antonia said from the
bed, 'if you'll look in the top tray of my
trunk, you'll see some fine soap.' That was
the first word she spoke.

"After I'd dressed the baby, I took it out
to show it to Ambrosch. He was muttering
behind the stove and wouldn't look at it.

"'You'd better put it out in the rain bar-
rel,' he says.

"'Now, see here, Ambrosch,' says I,
'there's a law in this land, don't forget that.
I stand here a witness that this baby has
come into the world sound and strong, and
I intend to keep an eye on what befalls it.'
I pride myself I cowed him.

"Well, I expect you're not much inter-
ested in babies, but Antonia's got on fine.
She loved it from the first as dearly as if
she'd had a ring on her finger, and was never
ashamed of it. It's a year and eight months
old now, and no baby was ever better cared-
for. Antonia is a natural-born mother. I
wish she could marry and raise a family, but
I don't know as there's much chance now."

I slept that night in the room I used to
have when I was a little boy, with the sum-

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