“Simple, indeed! It sounds so,” scoffed Aunt Hannah, with uplifted eyebrows. “Oh, well, I couldn't do it, of course,” admitted Billy, regretfully. “Bertram never'd stand for that in the world. He's always rushing in to show the baby off to every Tom, Dick and Harry and his wife that comes; and of course if you opened the nursery door, that would let in those germ things, and you _couldn't_ very well pasteurize your callers by heating them to one hundred and ten and one-half degrees for seventeen and one-half minutes! I don't see how you could manage such a room, anyway, unless you had a system of--of rooms like locks, same as they do for water in canals.” “Oh, my grief and conscience--locks, indeed!” almost groaned Aunt Hannah. “Here, Alice, will you please take this child--that is, if you have a germ-proof certificate about you to show to his mother. I want to take off my bonnet and gloves.” “Take him? Of course I'll take him,” laughed Alice; “and right under his mother's nose, too,” she added, with a playful grimace at Billy. “And we'll make pat-a-cakes, and send the little pigs to market, and have such a beautiful time that we'll forget there ever was such a thing in the world as an old germ. Eh, babykins?” “Babykins” cooed his unqualified approval of this plan; but his mother looked troubled. “That's all right, Alice. You may play with him,” she frowned doubtfully; “but you mustn't do it long, you know--not over five minutes.” “Five minutes! Well, I like that, when I've come all the way from Boston purposely to see him,” pouted Alice. “What's the matter now? Time for his nap?” “Oh, no, not for--thirteen minutes,” replied Billy, consulting the watch at her belt. “But we never play with Baby more than five minutes at a time. My 'Scientific Care of Infants' says it isn't wise; that with some babies it's positively dangerous, until after they're six months old. It makes them nervous, and forces their mind, you know,” she explained anxiously. “So of course we'd want to be careful. Bertram, Jr., isn't quite four, yet.” “Why, yes, of course,” murmured Alice, politely, stopping a pat-a-cake before it was half baked. The infant, as if suspecting that he was being deprived of his lawful baby rights, began to fret and whimper. “Poor itty sing,” crooned Aunt Hannah, who, having divested herself of bonnet and gloves, came hurriedly forward with outstretched hands. “Do they just 'buse 'em? Come here to your old auntie, sweetems, and we'll go walkee. I saw a bow-wow--such a tunnin' ickey wickey bow-wow on the steps when I came in. Come, we go see ickey wickey bow-wow?”