"Not always," answered Mrs. Plumberry. "Some of them will just lie down and let the others trample them to death. Four out of one litter of eleven I lost last March. There they were when I came in the morning. Seemed to have taken no interest in themselves. Had just let the others push them away."
The child, now comfortable on Mrs. Plumberry's ample arm, was playing with clenched fists, breathing peacefully. The doctor looked at him, relieved.
"Seems to have made a fair start, anyhow," thought the doctor.
Mrs. Plumberry with thumb and forefinger raised an eyelid and let it fall again. The baby answered with a vicious kick.
"He's come to stop all right," was Mrs. Plumberry's prophecy. "Hope he'll like it. Will it be safe for me to put him to the mother, say in about half an hour?"
The woman with closed eyes upon the bed must have heard, for she tried to raise her arms. The doctor bent over her once more.
"I think so," he answered. "Use your own discretion. I'll look back in an hour or so."
The doctor was struggling into his great coat. He glanced from the worn creature on the bed to
