II
It must be said, to the credit of incubators and science, that Marjoriewas a beautifully normal baby. Mrs. Fielding took the greatest possiblesatisfaction in that. She was always ready to show Marjorie's recordcharts to visitors, and it was touching to see with what motherly prideshe exhibited them. There was not another baby in the town that hadmaintained such an even temperature, such a steady respiration, or sucha reliably even pulse.
Mr. Fielding was no less proud of the record. He bragged about it at theclub and tried to induce his married friends to allow their babies toenter temperature matches with Marjorie, offering to wager two to onethat Marjorie could maintain a normal temperature for a longer time thanany baby of her age and weight.
When Marjorie reached six months Mr. Fielding decided that she deserveda reward of merit, and he made her a present of an oak filing cabinet ofsixteen drawers, together with three thousand index cards. There was thefood drawer, with cards for every day of the year, and places on eachcard to note the time of every feeding, the ounces of food taken, theminutes Marjorie required to take the food, the formula of the food, andthe average cost of food per hour.
There was the clothing drawer, with cards on which to record the weightof clothing worn, the temperature of the air, the number of pieces ofclothing worn, the method by which the garments were washed, and forremarks on the comparative good effects of cotton, wool, silk, and linengarments.
There were cards for sleep records, weight records, temperature,respiration, and pulse records--in fact Marjorie was analyzed andspecified until one could tell at a glance just how many thousandths ofan ounce of food she consumed for each beat of her heart, or how manytimes she breathed per pound of clothing worn.
Unfortunately, the nurse, Chiswick, objected. She threatened to leave.She said her professional training had not included card systems, andthat even if she had had a modern business education, she had no time tokeep such multitudinous records. Mr. Fielding promptly engaged a privatesecretary for Marjorie. Miss Vickers knew all about card index systems.She loved two things passionately--card systems and babies.
And then, just when a record card had been allotted to every function ofMarjorie's pink and white body, a complication arose. Marjorie developeda will and a temper.
She decided that she had reached the age when she ought to sit alone.She looked upon the world and saw Chiswick sitting upright and MissVickers sitting upright and she longed to sit upright too. For sixmonths she had reposed docilely upon her back or her stomach, withoccasional variations of lying on one side or the other, and she feltthat she had had enough of it. It was time to have a backbone and totake her place as a sitter. She told Chiswick so plainly enough. WhenChiswick laid her on her back she yelled and raised her head. WhenChiswick laid her on her stomach she turned over upon her back andraised her head and yelled. A little more and she would have been ableto sit up without aid. Her head and her neck sat up--as far as theycould. At least they flopped forward and tossed from side to side, buther backbone would not follow. It continued to repose in placid flatnesson the pillow. Marjorie was very angry with her backbone. She got quitepurple in the face about it at times, and choked.
Chiswick was very dense. Marjorie's head and neck explained again andagain what they wanted to do, but Chiswick could not understand them.She did not appreciate that it was ambition--she thought it was colic.She pepperminted Marjorie until the sight of the peppermint spoon madeMarjorie tremble with rage, and when Marjorie had absorbed ounces andounces of peppermint water, Chiswick decided that Marjorie was past thecolic age, anyway.
Miss Vickers discovered what Marjorie wanted.
"I believe," she said, "that the child wants to sit up," and thenshe tried it. That is why Marjorie loved Miss Vickers and hatedChiswick--and peppermint--from that day onward.
It would have all ended there if Marjorie had been willing tocompromise, but she was not willing. The first day she might have beenwilling, but when a person has cried steadily for three days and hasfought such a good fight, she feels it her right to dictate terms. Shewould not compromise on an angle of forty-five degrees. She refusedto be satisfied with a plump, downy pillow at her back. She would situpright and alone, or yell.
Not that it mattered that she sat upright and unsupported, except thatshe could not. Miss Vickers would seat her so and steady her for amoment, but when the protecting hands were removed Marjorie unfailinglycollapsed. Sometimes she sank backward upon her pillow waving her armsimpotently, but usually she doubled disgracefully forward until hernose bumped against her knee, or toppled to one side or the other like apulpy fallen idol. Her backbone was irritatingly pliable--somewhat likea wet rag in stiffness. It was a poor affair, as backbones go. She mightquite as well not have had any. It made Marjorie remarkably angry.
She spent three entire days in a continuous round of being set up andcrumpling down again into the various bunchy shapes, and each day hertemper grew more violent. For the first time in her life she cried realtears.
Mrs. Fielding was usually busy. Her club life was engrossing, but when,for three days in succession, the index cards bore the words "Criedall day," she felt it her duty to investigate. She went to the nursery,indignant.
"Well, mam," said Chiswick, "I don't know how to stop her. My opinion isthat it's temper. She _will_ sit up, mam, and she can't. We set her up,like she wants, and then she topples down and hollers. She hollers if wedo and she hollers if we don't. You can do a thing or you can leave itundone, and there ain't nothing else you can do. There ain't anythingbetween them two ways. If there was we might suit her."
"You should distract her attention," said Mrs. Fielding.
"She won't distract," declared Chiswick. "She made up her mind to situp alone--which she can't--and she gets in a temper over it, and hertemper's getting worse right along."
Mrs. Fielding looked at her daughter doubtfully.
"Perhaps she needs a little punishment," she suggested, "but I am notsure that the latest authorities approve of punishment. I will let youknow. I should like to consult others before acting."
Mrs. Fielding laid the matter before the Mothers' club at its nextmeeting. She found the Mothers' club to be frankly and openly dividedon the question. Mothers who had at first held the most modern ideas hadfallen into laxly illogical methods, and instead of taking broad viewsof the infant as a theoretical subject, had become rank individualists.Mrs. Jones could talk only of Johnny Jones and Mrs. Smith argued allquestions to and from Susie Smith. Mrs. Fielding found no satisfactionthere and at length appealed to the monthly convocation of the localfederation of Women's clubs, which included the best intellect of allthe women of the city. When the federation had finished considering thequestion, Mrs. Fielding found that she was one of a committee of fourappointed to direct the growth of Marjorie in mind, body, and soul.The federation had undertaken to guide Marjorie through the pitfalls ofinfancy.
Miss Martha Wiles, of the Browning club, was made chairman of thecommittee; Miss Vesey, of the Higher Life circle, and Miss Loring, ofthe Physical Good guild, were members of it, and Mrs. Fielding was addedat the last moment to represent the Mothers' club because the othermembers of the Mothers' club said they had enough to do to look aftertheir own babies.
When the committee convened in the Fielding nursery to considerMarjorie's temper, Marjorie greeted it with a sweet smile. The committeesat on the sofa and Marjorie sat in her crib. She had conquered herbackbone and was on good terms with it and the world again.
The committee entered upon its duties enthusiastically. It began bystudying the records of Marjorie. It met daily to adopt rules andregulations and spent hours over the card cabinet until it becamethoroughly acquainted with Marjorie's averages. Then it made out aschedule of normal development for mind and body.
Chiswick viewed the schedule skeptically.
"It's a nice schedule, mam, I'll say that much for it," she said, "butif the day comes when she's entered to creep, and she don't creep, whatam I going
to do about it?"
If the day comes when she is entered to creep anddon't... 68]
"It is your duty to see that she does creep," said Miss Wiles.
"Very well, mam," said Chiswick, "but may I ask one question?"
"You may. It is your duty to ask questions. Refer all your doubts to thecommittee," replied Miss Wiles.
"Then," said Chiswick, "answer me this. On page six of the records ofthe committee it says: 'Whereas, the lower strata of air in a room arethe abiding places of millions of germs; and whereas, children playingupon the floor must breathe the said air; and whereas, children playingupon the floor take into their mouths and convey thence to theirstomachs the said germs, as well as pins, lint, needles, buttons, andother indigestible and highly injurious substances. Therefore, be itresolved, that the
The Incubator Baby Page 3
