careless attendants, and that Reginald's nick-name, bestowed by
Frederick and Wilberforce in their frivolous wisdom, was not so far
out of the way as it might have seemed if he had not been possessed of
his own vague misgivings. They called him Abey. As for Harold, he was
unmistakably Irish, although the hospital people declared that he was
German to the core when Mr. and Mrs. Bingle went there to pick out a
healthy Teuton to add to their collection. They were positive that
they wanted a German baby; nothing else would do, they announced
clearly and positively to the superintendent in charge of the
maternity ward. The superintendent was most gracious about it. She
said they could return little Fritz if he didn't come up to the mark
in every particular. What more could a German fancier desire than a
child whose name alone stood for all that one could possibly seek in
Teutonic research? Fritz Bumbleburg:--that was the infant's name and
his father's name before him. Surely Mr. Bingle wouldn't demand
anything more German than that. Moreover, Fritz's mother was German-
American and she had been the wife of Fritz's father for a matter of
five years or more. Still, in spite of all this, Fritz (re-christened
Harold while he was still too young to raise a voice in protest) was
unmistakably Irish, or at least part Irish. It is also worthy of note
that Mrs. Bumbleburg ran away with an Irish policeman some weeks after
the infant Fritz's advent into the world, which would go to show that
the mother, at any rate, had Celtic inclinations if nothing more.

Kathleen took it very hard at first. She was inconsolable until the
desperate Bingle began to dilate upon the wonders of Florida. Miss
Fairweather was called in to corroborate all that they had to say
about the gorgeousness of that southern fairyland, and as a group they
did very well when one stops to consider that not one of them had ever
been south of Washington, D. C. The child cheered up a bit. She began