“Poor husband: he was in such a state that he was funny to look upon. At first he was glad and said that he wished for a boy, he thought that his son would be a minister or general, now he wishes for nothing, neither for a boy or a girl, he only cries.” “When the pangs began he himself writhed.” “They sent him to the chemist’s to fetch medicine. He drove for two hours by the chemist’s and could not remember what he wanted. Then he returned.” The old crones continue to chatter and to laugh their low, ghastly laugh, until, suddenly, all becomes still, and the grey figure enters and says, “Be still. The Man is born.” And as he says this a candle which he bears in his hand breaks into flame. The old women disappear, and the father of the Man comes in with the doctor. He says that he hates the child for the pain it has caused his wife, but when he hears that it is like him his heart overflows with gladness, and he thanks Heaven that his desire has been fulfilled, and he prays God that his son may grow up strong and healthy, intelligent and honest. Then come the relations; they are got up like puppets, like penny, wooden, painted dolls. They congratulate the father on the birth of his child, each with a set phrase, they say all the usual things. They leave no stereotype commonplace unsaid. Here is an example of their conversation-- _The Fat Lady speaks_: “Allow me, dear brother, to congratulate you on the birth of your son.” _Fat Gentleman_: “Allow me, dear relation, to most heartily congratulate you on the birth of your son, an event which you have been expecting for such a long time.” _The others_: “Allow us, dear relation, to congratulate you on the birth of your son.” _The Father_: “I thank you, I thank you; you are all very good and kind people,” etc. _A young Girl_: “What will you call the child, dear uncle? I should like him to have a pretty, poetical name; so much depends on the name of a man.” _The Fat Lady_: “I should like him to have a simple and sensible name. People with pretty names are always unsatisfactory and rarely succeed in life.” _The Fat Gentleman_: “It seems to me, my dear brother-in-law, that the child should be called after some of its older relations; that prolongs and maintains the race.” _The Father_: “Yes, my wife and I often thought about it but could not come to a decision. The birth of a child gives rise to so many new cares and anxieties.” _Fat Lady_: “It fills up life.” _Fat Gentleman_: “It gives a splendid purpose to life. To educate a child, to cause him by our guidance to avoid those faults into which we ourselves fell, to strengthen his mind with the riches of our own experience;--by so doing we create a better man, and slowly but surely move towards the goal of our existence--perfection.” _The Father_: “I entirely agree with you, my dear son-in-law!” Here the doctor enters and says, “Sir, your wife is feeling very ill; she wishes to see you.” The Man goes out.