Chiswick viewed the schedule skeptically. “It's a nice schedule, mam, I'll say that much for it,” she said, “but if the day comes when she's entered to creep, and she don't creep, what am I going to do about it?” [Illustration: If the day comes when she is entered to creep and don't... 68] “It is your duty to see that she does creep,” said Miss Wiles. “Very well, mam,” said Chiswick, “but may I ask one question?” “You may. It is your duty to ask questions. Refer all your doubts to the committee,” replied Miss Wiles. “Then,” said Chiswick, “answer me this. On page six of the records of the committee it says: 'Whereas, the lower strata of air in a room are the abiding places of millions of germs; and whereas, children playing upon the floor must breathe the said air; and whereas, children playing upon the floor take into their mouths and convey thence to their stomachs the said germs, as well as pins, lint, needles, buttons, and other indigestible and highly injurious substances. Therefore, be it resolved, that the said Marjorie Fielding shall never be allowed to sit, lie, recline, or rest upon the floor, nor upon any rug, blanket, or other covering upon the said floor.' What I want to know is, how the child is to learn to creep if she isn't to be allowed on the floor.” The committee looked at itself questioningly. Miss Loring giggled. Miss Wiles alone saved the day. “You will, of course,” she said, haughtily, “give the child her lessons in creeping upon a table. Mrs. Fielding will see that one is provided.” When the committee was gone Chiswick walked over to the crib where Marjorie lay and looked at her doubtfully. According to the schedule a creep was due from Marjorie in six weeks and Marjorie had only learned the art of sitting alone. Sitting alone at seven months is not bad progress for an incubator baby and Marjorie was rather proud of it. “Well,” said Chiswick, “you've got to do it, and if you've got to do it you might as well begin to learn now.” Marjorie was lifted and deposited upon her rotund little stomach, which protruded so much that she rocked back and forth upon it like a helpless hobby horse. She looked up at Chiswick appealingly but saw only a stern taskmistress. “Lie that way a while,” said Chiswick coldly. “Get used to it,” and she went away.