There were four in the party--two men and two women. Mary recognized
three of them at the first glance and felt a glow of pride warm her as
they seated themselves in her office.
"Not even you," she thought with a glance at the attentive figures on the
walls, "not even you ever had visitors like these." And in some subtle
manner which I simply cannot describe to you, she felt that the portrayed
figures were proud of the visitors, too--and prouder yet of the
dreamy-eyed girl who had brought it about, flesh of their flesh, blood of
their blood, who was looking so queenly and chatting so quietly to the
elect of the earth.
The fourth caller was introduced as Professor Marsh, and Mary soon
perceived that he was a hostile critic.
"I shall have to be careful of him," she thought, "or I shall be giving
him some good, hard bouncers before I know it--and that would never do
today." So putting the temptation behind her she presently said, "We'll
start at the nursery, if you like--any time you're ready."
You have already seen something of that nursery, its long row of windows
facing the south, its awnings, toys, sand-piles and white-robed nurses.
Since then Mary had had time to elaborate the original theme with a
kitchen for preparing their majesties' food, linen closets and a
rest-room for the nurses.
The chief glory of the nursery, however, was its noble line of
play-rooms, each in charge of two nurses.
"Let's look in here," said Mary, opening a door.
They came upon an interesting scene. In this room were twelve children,
about two years old. The nurses were feeding them. Each nurse sat on the
inside of a kidney shaped table, large enough to accommodate six
children, but low enough to avoid the necessity for high chairs with the
consequent dangling between earth and heaven.
In front of each child was a plate set in a recess in the table--this to
guard against overturning in the excitement of the moment--and in each
plate was a generous portion of chicken broth poured over broken bread.
It was evidently good. Approval shone on each pink face. A brisk play of
spoons and the smacking of lips seemed to be the order of the day.
"Each play room has its own wash room--" said Mary.
She opened another door belonging to this particular suite and disclosed
a bathroom with special fixtures for babies. Large bowls, with hot and
cold water, were set in porcelain tables.
"What's the use of having so many bath-bowls in this table," asked
Professor Marsh, "when you only have two nurses to do the bathing?"
"Every woman with a baby has half an hour off in the morning, and another
half hour in the afternoon," he was told. "In the morning, she bathes her
baby. In the afternoon she loves it."
In the next play-room which they visited, the babies were of the bottle
age, and were proving this to the satisfaction of every one concerned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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