annoyed the doctor. He beckoned Kronborg into the liv-
ing-room and said sternly:--

"You've got a very sick child in there. Why didn't you
call me before? It's pneumonia, and she must have been
sick for several days. Put the baby down somewhere,
please, and help me make up the bed-lounge here in the
parlor. She's got to be in a warm room, and she's got to
be quiet. You must keep the other children out. Here, this
thing opens up, I see," swinging back the top of the car-
pet lounge. "We can lift her mattress and carry her in
just as she is. I don't want to disturb her more than is
necessary."

Kronborg was all concern immediately. The two men
took up the mattress and carried the sick child into the parlor.
"I'll have to go down to my office to get some medicine,
Kronborg. The drug store won't be open. Keep the covers
on her. I won't be gone long. Shake down the stove and
put on a little coal, but not too much; so it'll catch quickly,
I mean. Find an old sheet for me, and put it there to warm."

The doctor caught his coat and hurried out into the dark
street. Nobody was stirring yet, and the cold was bitter.
He was tired and hungry and in no mild humor. "The
idea!" he muttered; "to be such an ass at his age, about the
seventh! And to feel no responsibility about the little girl.
Silly old goat! The baby would have got into the world
somehow; they always do. But a nice little girl like that
--she's worth the whole litter. Where she ever got it