upon his conversation much of the quality of the double acrostic. We had
been discussing the question whether sardines served their purpose better
as a hors d'oeuvre or as a savoury; and I found myself wondering for the
moment why sardines, above all other fish, should be of an unbelieving
nature; while endeavouring to picture to myself the costume best adapted
to display the somewhat difficult figure of a sardine. Henry put down
his glass, and came to my rescue with the necessary explanation.

"Why, women--that they can tell one baby from another, without its
clothes. I've got a sister, a monthly nurse, and she will tell you for a
fact, if you care to ask her, that up to three months of age there isn't
really any difference between 'em. You can tell a girl from a boy and a
Christian child from a black heathen, perhaps; but to fancy you can put
your finger on an unclothed infant and say: 'That's a Smith, or that's a
Jones,' as the case may be--why, it's sheer nonsense. Take the things
off 'em, and shake them up in a blanket, and I'll bet you what you like
that which is which you'd never be able to tell again so long as you
lived."

I agreed with Henry, so far as my own personal powers of discrimination
might be concerned, but I suggested that to Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith
there would surely occur some means of identification.

"So they'd tell you themselves, no doubt," replied Henry; "and of course,
I am not thinking of cases where the child might have a mole or a squint,
as might come in useful. But take 'em in general, kids are as much alike
as sardines of the same age would be. Anyhow, I knew a case where a fool
of a young nurse mixed up two children at an hotel, and to this day
neither of those women is sure that she's got her own."