The Incubator Baby

by Ellis Parker Butler

again. It fell sickeninglybeneath her hand, and arose again, only to fall once more. Marjorietrembled. If all the world should develop this instability! If cribs andfloors and walls should take to sinking and rising.

  She lost faith in the inanimate. Nothing was firm and secure but strong,warm arms, holding one firmly. She cast off her remaining clasp on thechair and in her excitement forgot that she was standing. She had butone thought, Chiswick and safety!

  Steadying herself for a moment she reached out her arms and took a steptoward Chiswick. She swayed backward, threatening to sit down again, andthen in a rush she took three quick steps, bent forward and fell flat onher face.

  Chiswick darted toward her, but too late. Her forehead struck the hardfloor just before Chiswick reached her, and she screamed with fright. Itwas true! Even the floor had proved false and had risen to strike her.Her heart broke, and then, before she knew how, she was wrapped inChiswick's arms and was being rocked tumultuously. Chiswick had fallenfrom scientific grace.

  After that it was only a question of who could do the most to spoilMarjorie. There was Mrs. Fielding, who was sure no one suspected her;and Mr. Fielding, who carefully avoided publicity in his ministrations;and Chiswick, who was severely correct when observed and weaklyindulgent when alone; and Miss Vickers, who was shamelessly indifferentto rules. Between them Marjorie had quite a normal babyhood, and themembers of the committee were blissfully unaware of it. They regularlyreported her progress, and bragged of her scientific upbringing.

  When Marjorie reached the age of two years she had cut all her teethand was saying words of one and one-half syllables, and stringing themtogether to form sentences that no one but her loving intimates could byany chance understand. By the direction of her governing committee shewore frocks cut on a scientific plan that had originated in the mind ofsome person who had a chronic aversion to ruffles and whose firm beliefseemed to be that only the ugly was hygienic. Marjorie wore healthgarments that looked like misfit flour sacks, and health shoes that madepeople stop and stare at her feet. Her garb was so highly healthfulthat Marjorie should have bloomed like a rose, but she began to droopvisibly. She became pale and peevish and would not eat her bran mashand Infant's Delight puddings. By day she was listless and by night sheslept fitfully and awakened with screams. She had no appetite. Every onewas sorry for her and did little things to please her--on the sly.

  In any other child the doctor would at once have suspected a wrongdiet, but Marjorie's committee had arranged her diet and it was beyondcriticism. The doctor suggested that perhaps incubator babieswere subject to such declines. One of the strictest rules of thecommittee-arranged diet was "no sweets." Candy was absolutely forbidden.On this point the committee was most positive.

  Miss Vickers considered this a shocking cruelty. She lived largely onchocolate creams and considered a candyless world pathetic. She pitiedMarjorie, and occasionally, when no one was looking, she smuggled a fatchocolate into Marjorie's willing mouth. Miss Vickers believed thata little candy was good for a child, but she was careful not to giveMarjorie more than she thought was good for her.

  Mr. Fielding was of the same opinion. He could not imagine anunsweetened childhood, and whenever he visited the nursery he smuggledin a few soft bonbons--the kind that dissolve in the mouth and leaveno clews. Marjorie approved. She had a capacity for candy that wasphenomenal. One morning she and her mother were taking a little toddledown the street when they passed one of those seductive candy shops inwhich the basely knowing proprietor has the show windows cut so low thatthe tempting display is very near the level of a two-year-old's mouth.

  Marjorie stopped. She pushed her nose into flatness against the windowand gloated. She edged back and forth from one side, where there werechocolate creams, to the other, where there were pink bonbons, and hernose in its course made a clean streak on the dusty window glass. Shepaused hesitatingly before the floury marshmallows, passed the cakes offlat chocolate without qualms, and settled firmly and finally before thepink bonbons.

  She refused to leave the beautiful spot. When Mrs. Fielding tried todraw her away, her nose remained against the glass and she screamed.Mrs. Fielding glanced up and down the street guiltily. Not a committeemember was in sight. The street was untroubled by the feet of members ofthe Federation of Women's Clubs. Mrs. Fielding vanished into the candyshop. It was quite safe to leave Marjorie outside; she would remain withher nose, and her nose seemed permanently affixed to the window.

  But when Mrs. Fielding emerged with a small paper bag in her handMarjorie turned. The sight of one of the delicious pink lumps ofsweetness being lifted from the bag drew her away from the window, andwhen the bonbon was dropped into her open mouth she was conquered. Shefollowed her mother gladly. Wherever that paper bag might go, Marjoriewould follow. The last bonbon disappeared before they reached home, butMrs. Fielding continued to carry the empty bag, and Marjorie followedit.

  "Miss Vickers," said Mrs. Fielding, as she turned Marjorie over to her,"you must never, _never_ allow any one to give Marjorie candy. It wouldnot be good for her." Thus she tried to secure a monopoly of Marjorie'slove, and forestall any ill effects, but she did not know the depthsto which Chiswick had sunk. Concealed in her loose shirt waist wassomething that rustled suspiciously like paper and that made her oncecare-free conscience cringe at every rustle.

  Naturally, Marjorie got too much candy. Whenever she was alone with oneof her family she found candy appearing from unsuspected places abouttheir persons, and she began to like confidential little parties of two.

  It was truly joyful to see Marjorie eat candy. She was not greedy. Atleast, she did not look greedy. She looked surprised and pleased. Shenever seemed so soulful and sinless as at the moment when her pink lipsclosed over a bonbon. At such a moment she seemed to forget the worldand to live in a more blessed sphere. The committee was particularlystrict about candy. It made the most positive rules against candy andhad them pasted on the walls of the nursery, and then during its calls,each of its members skirmished to be the last to leave. The last out ofthe room usually dropped a piece of candy into Marjorie's mouth.

  Her indisposition was a glorious opportunity for the candy givers.Everybody had a good excuse for going to the nursery as often aspossible, and she was in a constant glow of cherubic bliss, until theday of reckoning came. She lay on her cot and was crudely, simply sick.Her eyes were sunken and her cheeks varied from pale yellow to feverishred. For the first time in her life she refused candy.

  Her family and attendants and her governing committee wandered about thenursery, each with one closed fist hiding a candy, seeking opportunitiesto bend over the crib, and offer the candy to Marjorie, unseen by theothers. They made quite a procession. Someone was bending over the cribevery moment. Finally the doctor came and bent over the crib, too, andthen all the others joined him.

  "That child is sick," said the doctor, taking her from the crib andconcocting a potion.

  "We knew that, doctor," said Miss Vickers. "We knew she was quite ill."

  "Ill!" he said. "Ill! I said sick. Dog sick. She's overfed. Too muchcandy."

  "Oh!" they all exclaimed. "Candy! Impossible!"

  "The rules of the committee--" began the chairman.

  "Did she eat 'em?" asked the doctor savagely. "If she did she ought tobe sick. It makes me sick to look at 'em." He glared at the assembly."Which of you gave her candy?" he asked. There was no reply. He turned toMarjorie.

  "Like candy?" he asked.

  "Yeth," said Marjorie.

  "Who gives you candy?" he inquired. Marjorie looked at the faces aboveher. She selected Chiswick.

  "Chithy," she declared.

  Chiswick blushed. The others looked at her in pained surprise.

  "Who else gives you candy?" demanded the doctor.

  "Papa," said Marjorie.

  Mr. Fielding crimsoned and avoided the eyes that frowned at him.

  Miss Vickers alone spared him. She tossed her head defiantly.

  "I gave her candy. Lots of
it. It's good for her," she declared.

  "Who else?" demanded the doctor.

  "Mamma," said Marjorie.

  Mrs. Fielding put her handkerchief to her eyes. She was afraid of thecommittee and hid weakly behind her tears, knowing that they would notattack her there, but the committee was not considering an attack. Itwas preparing a graceful retreat and it oozed away before Marjorie madeits baseness known.

  "Doctor," said Mr. Fielding unsteadily, "do you think you can pull herthrough?"

  The doctor rumbled deep in his throat.

  "Pull her through!" he growled. "Pull her through! Why don't _you_ askme?" he snapped at Mrs. Fielding. Mrs. Fielding wiped her eyes.

  "Will she get well?" she asked.

  The doctor grew scarlet.

  "You ask me?"