the baby was ordered to be brought in for inspection. The matron
had handed him over to a sort of half-witted inmate of the house,
whose wits, however, were strangely about him at the wrong time,
to nurse and amuse him. This person brought Ginx's Baby into the
Board-room, and placed him on the table. The Board of Guardians
took a good look at him. He was not then in fair condition. He
was limp, he was dirty, hollow in the cheeks, white, stiff in his
limbs, and half-naked-- (to be regardless of gender)--

"Pallidula, rigida, nudula."


"Hum!" said Mr. Stink, who was a dog-breeder--"What's his
pedigree?"

This brutal joke was well received by some of the Guardians.

"His pedigree," answered the half-wit, gravely, "goes back for
three hundred years. Parients unknown by name, but got by Misery
out o' Starvashun. The line began with Poverty out o' Laziness
in Queen Elizabeth's time. The breed has been a large 'un
wotever you thinks of the quality."

This pleasantry was less acceptable to the Board.

"Well," said Mr. Scoop, grocer, a great stickler for
parliamentary modes of procedure, "I move it be committed. "

"Committed! Where?" said Mr. Stink.