two hours ago, with a one-year-old bulldog packed in that hamper. You
saw me open it; you see what's inside it now."

"But bulldogs," says the chambermaid, "ain't changed into babies by
magic."

"I don't know how it's done," says the old lady, "and I don't see that it
matters. I know I started with a bulldog, and somehow or other it's got
turned into that."

"Somebody's put it there," says the chambermaid; "somebody as wanted to
get rid of a child. They've took your dog out and put that in its
place."

"They must have been precious smart," says the old lady; "the hamper
hasn't been out of my sight for more than five minutes, when I went into
the refreshment-room at Banbury for a cup of tea."

"That's when they did it," says the chambermaid, "and a clever trick it
was."

The old lady suddenly grasped her position, and jumped up from the floor.
"And a nice thing for me," she says. "An unmarried woman in a scandal-
mongering village! This is awful!"

"It's a fine-looking child," says the chambermaid.

"Would you like it?" says the old lady.

The chambermaid said she wouldn't. The old lady sat down and tried to