“Brothers and sisters! I am sure Mrs Caxton will never think of such a thing, sir,” said my father almost indignantly. “She’s much too good a wife to behave so. Once, in a way, it is all very well; but twice—and as it is, not a paper in its place, nor a pen mended the last three days: I, too, who can only write ‘_cuspide duriusculâ_’—and the Baker coming twice to me for his bill too! The Ilithyiæ are troublesome deities, Mr Squills.” “Who are the Ilithyiæ,” asked the accoucheur. “You ought to know,” answered my father, smiling. “The female dæmons who presided over the Neogilos or New-born. They take the name from Juno. See Homer, book XI. By the bye, will my Neogilos be brought up like Hector or Astyanax,—_videlicet_, nourished by its mother or by a nurse?” “Which do you prefer, Mr Caxton?” asked Mr Squills, breaking the sugar in his tumbler. “In this I always deem it my duty to consult the wishes of the gentleman.” “A nurse by all means, then,” said my father. “And let her carry him _upo kolpo_, next to her bosom. I know all that has been said about mothers nursing their own infants, Mr Squills; but poor Kitty is so sensitive, that I think a stout healthy peasant woman will be best for the boy’s future nerves, and his mother’s nerves, present and future too. Heigh-ho!—I shall miss the dear woman very much; when will she be up, Mr Squills?” “Oh, in less than a fortnight!” “And then the Neogilos shall go to school! _upo kolpo_—the nurse with him, and all will be right again,” said my father, with a look of sly mysterious humour, which was peculiar to him. “School! when he’s just born?” “Can’t begin too soon,” said my father positively; “that’s Helvetius’ opinion, and it’s mine too!” CHAPTER III.