THE MECHANICAL BABY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3176, 2 September 1881, Page 4

THE MECHANICAL BABY.

It was in a third-class railway carriage (we always travel third-class in summer, it is cooler). A seedy looking man was seated opposite, and we noticed that he made an extraordinary grimace at the Bmelling-botfcle carried by the wife of our bosom. Feeling ourious as to tho oause, we ventured upon an inquiry. ' Why aid I turn my nose up afc that 'ere emelling-bofctle as your good lady was using? Well, sir, as you've asked me the quesfcioQ, I'll tell yer. Ifc was all along of one of them identical bottles that I had three months in the hospital, and was ruined in one of the best businesses as ever a man carried on. You must understand, sir, that I used to travel with a waxworks. It. weren't mine, bufc I used to stand otitside and get the customers. About two years ftgo the guvnor made up his mind to retire, and as he hadn't no relations before he gave up, he divided all the properties among the hands that had been a-working with him. My share was a Emperor Bonaparte, a Shar of Persia, a Lady Macbeth, a Mechanical Baby. I had wound the baby up, and was a-fchinking how natural-like it breathed and went on, when all of a sudden I got a idea. I had plenty of energy then, and I determined to have a try that very afternoon. I fixed on Oxford-si reel, for the first, try, and with the baby in my arms, I walked along until I came to a good dossing. Then picking my opportunity when there was plenty of people about, I dashed into the road just in the middle of the crossing. I aceidenfclv dropped the baby. A hansom went, by one side, a brewer's dray on the other ; and the shrieks from the people who had seen the accident was a caution to hear. Then picking up the infant, I carried ifc on to the footpath. The tears were a-running down my cheeks, and I could hardly speak for sobs. About fifty people were around me in a moment, and I choked out, ' Oh, my poor motherless orphan ! Not a morsel of food have you had since yesterday ; and this shock may be the death of you.' ' Poor fellow !' said a kind-hearted old lady ; and she dropped a shilling into my hand. Most, of those round followed suit, in pence, and what not and when I left Oxford street I had five-and-twenty shillings in my pocket. I carried that baby, sir, for a matter of ten months, and dropped ifc regular once a day, though of course, I didn't use the same streets. I can assure you, sir, I was a-coin-ing money, and in another eighteen months I should have been able to buy a nice little public which was always my ambition. But I suppose ifc wasn't to be, and the end came too soon. One day I dropped the baby, and picked him up again as usual, and was collecting the coppers off a sympathising crowd, when who should come along but a lady with one of them nasty bottles. She never says nothing, bufc before I could stop she puts the bottle under his nose. Of course it didn't make no difference to him, how should ifc ? Then she cried, ' Oh, perhaps it's dead !' and afore I knee? what she was going to be up to, she whipped ifc out of my arms. ' You men don't know how to hold a child,' said she. Bufc sho didn't hold ifc long, for the next moment she gives aloud shriek and drops ifc on the pavement. Ifc fell on its head, and Lhat busted ifc. Ifc was padded everywhere else, bufc falling on its head one of tho wheels wont wrong, and the clockwork went whizzing away like as if they'd gone mad. The people round soon saw that they'd been had, and in live minutes the baby had been kicked to pieces, and I was a being carried to the nearest hospital. So you needn't wonder that I can't abear the sight of them smel-ling-bottles.'—July.