Suddenly from behind him he heard the sound of two resounding slaps, the second being followed by a howl that, feeble though it was, contained a decided note of indignation. The doctor turned his head. The child was kicking vigorously.
"Do you always do that?" asked the young doctor. He had been glad when he had been told that Mrs. Plumberry was to be the midwife, having heard good repute of her as a woman of experience.
"It starts them," explained Mrs. Plumberry. "I suppose they don't like it and want to say so; and before they can yell out they find they've got to draw some air into their lungs."
She was a stout motherly soul, the wife of a small farmer on the outskirts of the town, and only took cases during the winter. At other times, as she would explain, there were the pigs and the poultry to occupy her mind. She was fond of animals of all kinds.
"It's the fighting instinct," suggested the young doctor. "Curious how quickly it shows itself."
"When it's there," commented Mrs. Plumberry, proceeding with her work.
"Isn't it always there?" demanded the young doctor.
