"No use. Gone too far," growled the physician, shaking his grizzled head. "If I knew how to save it, I would; that's my job. But the best thing that can happen is its death. Ought to be a hangin' matter for poor folks to have so many children, anyway," he concluded grimly.
"That sounds awful to me, Dr. Poole," Janice said.
"There is something awful about Nature. Nature takes care of these things, if we doctors are not allowed to."
"Why! what do you mean?"
"The law of the survival of the fittest is what keeps this old world of ours from being overpopulated by weaklings."
Janice Day was deeply impressed by the doctor's words, and thought over them sadly as she walked down the hill toward Pine Cove. She went by the old path past Mr. Cross Moore's and saw him in his garden, wheeling his wife in her chair.
Mrs. Moore was a frail woman, and because of long years of invalidism, a most exacting person. She had great difficulty in keeping a maid because of her unfortunate temper; and sometimes Mr. Moore was left alone to keep house. Nobody could suit the invalid as successfully as her husband.
"Wheel me to the fence. I want to speak to that girl, Cross," commanded the wife sharply, and the town selectman did so.
"Janice Day!" called Mrs. Moore, "I wish to speak to you."
Janice, smiling, ran across the street and shook hands with the sick woman over the fence palings. But she barely nodded to Mr. Cross Moore.