“Committed! Where?” said Mr. Stink.
“To Newgate I s'pose,” said the half-wit, his eyes twinkling.
“Nonsense, sir,—for consideration. Send that man out,” exclaimed Scoop—“clear the room for consultation.”
Davus was expelled, and the baby was then formally consigned to the care of a committee. By this time the legal adviser came in. The facts having been stated to him, he said:
“Gentlemen, as at present advised I am of opinion that the parish in which the child was found is bound to maintain him. If Mr. Doll (a highly respectable person, my own cheesemonger) found the child beyond the boundaries of St. Simon Magus—and he will of course swear that he did—you cannot refuse to take it in. However, I had better ascertain the facts from Mr. Doll and take the opinion of counsel. Meanwhile we must beware not to compromise ourselves by admitting anything, or doing anything equivalent to an admission. Let me see—Ah!—yes—a notice to be served on the other parish repudiating the infant; another notice to Mr. Doll to take it away, and that it remains here at his risk and expense—you see, gentlemen, we could hardly venture to return it to Mr. Doll; we should create an unhappy impression in the minds of the public—”
“D—n the public!” said Mr. Stink.
“Quite so, my dear sir,” said Mr. Phillpotts, smiling, “quite so, but that is not a legal or in fact practicable mode of discarding them; we must act with public opinion, I fear. Then, to resume, thirdly and to be strictly safe, we must serve a notice on the infant and all whom it may concern. I think I'll draft it at once.”
In a few minutes the committee in charge pinned to the only garment of Ginx's Baby a paper in the following form:—
PARISH OF ST. BARTIMEUS.
To —— —— (name unknown), a Foundling, and all other persons interested in the said Foundling.