Official.  ‘Was ist das’?

American.  Is there anybody here that can understand American?

Official.  ‘Verstehe nicht’.

American.  Well, just watch my gestures.  I was saying [He points to the little man, then makes gestures of flying] you have an angel from heaven there.  You have there a man in whom Gawd [He points upward] takes quite an amount of stock.  You have no call to arrest him. [He makes the gesture of arrest] No, Sir.  Providence has acted pretty mean, loading off that baby on him. [He makes the motion of dandling] The little man has a heart of gold. [He points to his heart, and takes out a gold coin.]

Official. [Thinking he is about to be bribed] ’Aber, das ist zu viel’!

American.  Now, don’t rattle me! [Pointing to the little man] Man [Pointing to his heart] ‘Herz’ [Pointing to the coin] ‘von’ Gold.  This is a flower of the field—­he don’t want no gentleman in buttons to pluck him up.

     [A little crowd is gathering, including the Two English, the
     German, and the Dutch Youth.]

Official.  ‘Verstehe absolut nichts’. [He taps the telegram] ’Ich muss mein’ duty do.

American.  But I’m telling you.  This is a white man.  This is probably the whitest man on Gawd’s earth.

Official.  ’Das macht nichts’—­gut or no gut, I muss mein duty do. [He turns to go toward the little man.]

American.  Oh!  Very well, arrest him; do your duty.  This baby has typhus.

     [At the word “typhus” the official stops.]

American. [Making gestures] First-class typhus, black typhus, schwarzen typhus.  Now you have it.  I’m kind o’ sorry for you and the gentleman in buttons.  Do your duty!

Official.  Typhus?  Der Bub—­die baby hat typhus?

American.  I’m telling you.

Official.  Gott im Himmel!

American. [Spotting the German in the little throng] here’s a gentleman will corroborate me.

Official. [Much disturbed, and signing to the policeman to stand clear] Typhus!  ‘Aber das ist grasslich’!

American.  I kind o’ thought you’d feel like that.

Official.  ‘Die Sanitatsmachine!  Gleich’!

     [A Porter goes to get it.  From either side the broken half-moon
     of persons stand gazing at the little man, who sits unhappily
     dandling the baby in the centre.]

Official. [Raising his hands] ‘Was zu thun’?

American.  Guess you’d better isolate the baby.

     [A silence, during which the little man is heard faintly
     whistling and clucking to the baby.]