Considering the vast number of people who positively did not want little Timothy Totten, but who would have felt infinitely obliged to him if he had utterly stayed away, it is somewhat surprising that he should have ventured into this cold world. In the first place, his once patient, much-enduring mother, on whose breast he lay alternately squalling and sleeping, cannot be said to have wanted him for she had already borne nine like him, and had long, long ago spent all of her beauty and most of her strength in bearing and caring for Timothy’s troublesome predecessors. On her part, then, it must be admitted at the outset, that the bearing of Timothy was simply a common example of the sublime and unsurpassable endurance of woman, combined with the stolid submission of a drudge who sees no escape from her lot. Indeed, the sentiments of Timothy’s mother in regard to having children had long ago come to be quite the reverse of those of the Bible Rachel. Instead of saying, “Give me children or I die,” the feelings of her heart on this subject, had they found any expression, through many wearisome years, would have taken this form: “Save me from undesired children or I die.” Certainly, whoever else in the wide world may have wanted Timothy, it was clear that his mother did not want him. There is but little less doubt that Timothy’s coming was unwelcome to his father, although he observed it with his usual stolid indifference. He was a day-labourer, and already had so many children that he could not support them in anything like comfort or decency; and for Timothy to come and swell the number of gaping mouths, just when it was so difficult to get work, and labour was so cheap, was decidedly inconsiderate on his part and a downright piece of ill-luck. Then there would be some scanty clothing to be bought for Timothy, and possibly a doctor’s bill, and school taxes (provided Timothy had any schooling), and as all these things loomed up, in prospect, before Timothy’s father, he felt decidedly inhospitable toward Timothy, and as though, if it were possible, he would like to send him back where he came from with a surly note of rejection. Yes, nothing was plainer than that, so far as Timothy’s father was concerned, Timothy was not wanted. He was superfluous, or _de trop_, as the French say. As Timothy’s parents clearly did not want him, neither can it be said that Timothy’s brothers and sisters wanted him. They always licked their plates and fingers very clean at their meagre table, and sighed ruefully for more, and had they in any way realized that their already too scanty rations were to be divided with this new-comer, they would have clamored louder than anybody against his coming. Timothy’s brothers and sisters, already poorly cared for, were evidently to gain nothing by his coming, therefore they could not possibly want him. He had better have stayed away so far as they were concerned.