THE BLOOMSBURY CHRISTENING. 381 



were accompanied with an interesting simper, and a squeeze of the 

 hand, which stirred up all Uncle Dumps' bile. 



" Jane, tell nurse to bring down baby," said Mrs. Kitterbell, ad- 

 dressing the servant. Mrs. Kitterbell was a tall thin young lady with 

 very light hair, and a particularly white face one of those young 

 women who almost invariably, though one hardly knows why, recal 

 to one's mind the idea of a cold fillet of veal. Out went the servant, 

 and in came the nurse, with a remarkably small parcel in her arms 

 packed up in a blue mantle trimmed with white fur. This was 

 the baby. 



" Now, uncle," said Mr. Kitterbell, lifting up that part of the 

 mantle which covered the infant's face, with an air of great triumph, 

 ' ' Who do you think he's like ? " 



" He ! he ! Yes, who ? " said Mrs. K. putting her arm through 

 her husband's, and looking up into Dumps' face with an expression 

 of as much interest as she was capable of displaying. 



" Good God, how small he is !" cried the amiable uncle, starting 

 back with well-feigned surprise ; " remarkably small indeed." 



" Do you think so ? " inquired poor little Kitterbell rather 

 alarmed. " He's a monster to what he was an't he nurse ? " 



" He's a dear ; " said the nurse squeezing the child, and evading 

 the question not because she scrupled to disguise the fact, but be- 

 cause she couldn't afford to throw away the chance of Dumps' half- 

 crown. 



" Well, but who is he like?" inquired little Kitterbell. 



Dumps looked at the little pink heap before him, and only thought 

 at the moment of the best mode of mortifying the youthful parents. 



" I really don't know who he's like," he answered, very well know- 

 ing the reply expected of him. 



" Don't you think he's like me ? " inquired his nephew, with a 

 knowing air. 



" Oh, decidedly not ! " returned Dumps, with an emphasis not to 

 be misunderstood. " Decidedly not like you. Oh, certainly not." ( 



" Like Jemima?" asked Kitterbell faintly. 



" Oh dear, no ; not in the least. I'm no judge, of course, in such 

 cases ; but I really think he's more like one of those little interesting 

 carved representations that one sometimes sees blowing a trumpet on 

 a tombstone!" The nurse stooped down over the child, and with 

 great difficulty prevented an explosion of mirth. Pa and ma looked 

 almost as miserable as their amiable uncle. 



"Well!" said the disappointed little father, " you'll be better 

 able to tell what he's like by and bye. You shall see him this even- 

 ing with his mantle off." 



" Thank you," said Dumps, feeling particularly grateful. 



" Now, my love/' said Kitterbell to his wife, " it's time we were 

 off. We're to meet the other godfather and the godmother at the 

 church, uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson from over the way uncom- 

 monly nice people. My love, are you well wrapped up ?" 



" Yes, dear." 



" Are you sure you won't have another shawl ? " inquired the 

 anxious husband. 



