We have always been desirous that great inventions with results of practical use to humanity should be spread abroad as soon as possible. Consequently, we shall not have the selfishness to hide this most original as well as simple expedient, which possibly the reader may be able to put to trial some day—I hope so with all my heart The words of the song are these:—
| Byelow! baby, byelow! |
| See the wild hen fly low! |
| There at last upon the mast, |
| Swaying, swinging high low![45] |
As to the music, I am inclined to think that success was not attained by that altogether. However, any one can be sure of obtaining a happy result provided that—let this be thoroughly understood—provided that it be repeated a number of times, and the last line sung in a dying tone. For the stubborn infant to hear it, and to stop, with his eyes fixed in ecstatic contemplation of no one knew what, was the same thing. Perhaps it may have been the terrible hen forever swaying on the mast. The one thing sure was that those little eyes, so open and terrified, quickly closed in the softest slumber: all the inhabitants of the house drew a deep sigh of satisfaction: the child was then forthwith carried to the great nuptial couch, where it was deposited in one corner like a bundle of linen.
I say that at first Miguel took pleasure in going out to promenade with his wife; when the baby was hungry Maximina would nurse him, finding a seat on a bench in some retired spot; then they would go into a "dairy" near at hand and get some chocolate.
But after a few day's the Brigadier's son, either because of the exigencies of business or because he desired to chat with his friends, ceased to join her, suggesting that she go alone with the infant, because, under no consideration would he consent that the little one should be deprived of fresh air. With real heartfelt grief, though she concealed it as much as possible, she yielded to this desire. It was a great source of gain to the child, it is true, but she could never entirely conquer the timidity and fear which the Madrid streets inspired in her when she went out without her husband.
The first two days nothing went wrong in her excursion; but on the third, as she was walking along a lonely path in the Retiro to eat a bit of bread, which the nurse-girl had taken on purpose,—for nothing in the world would have tempted her to enter the chocolate-house alone,—she unexpectedly met Saavedra. Although she had seen him the day before at home, she felt a slight trembling, without knowing why; and a bright blush suffused her face, a sign which was not displeasing to the Andalusian dandy. He greeted her warmly, caressed the infant, and, without asking permission, walked along beside her. The nurse-girl respectfully passed on ahead.
The conversation turned on the ordinary topics of the time, the healthfulness of children going out, etc. Suddenly Saavedra, pausing, asked with a smile:—
"What did you do with the piece of bread that you were eating, Maximina?"
The young woman was so confused that she did not know what to reply.
"I am certain that you must have dropped it on the ground. Why are you ashamed to eat when you are nursing such a beautiful, strong baby?"