American.  That will be rather difficult to come at.  I’m just a bit sensitive.  I’ve very little use for affections of the epidermis.

German.  Pfui! [He has edged away as far as he can get, and is lighting a big cigar]

     [The Dutch youth draws his legs back.]

American. [Also taking out a cigar] I guess it would be well to fumigate this carriage.  Does it suffer, do you think?

Little man. [Peering] Really, I don’t—­I’m not sure—­I know so little about babies.  I think it would have a nice expression—­if—­if it showed.

American.  Is it kind of boiled looking?

Little man.  Yes—­yes, it is.

American. [Looking gravely round] I judge this baby has the measles.

     [The German screws himself spasmodically against the arm of the
     ENGLISHWOMAN’S seat.]

ENGLISHWOMAN.  Poor little thing!  Shall I——?

     [She half rises.]

Englishman. [Touching her] No, no——­Dash it!

American.  I honour your emotion, ma’am.  It does credit to us all.  But I sympathize with your husband too.  The measles is a very important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.

Little man.  It likes my finger awfully.  Really, it’s rather a sweet baby.

American. [Sniffing] Well, that would appear to be quite a question.  About them spots, now?  Are they rosy?

Little man.  No-o; they’re dark, almost black.

German.  Gott!  Typhus! [He bounds up on to the arm of the
ENGLISHWOMAN’S Seat.]

American.  Typhus!  That’s quite an indisposition!

[The Dutch youth rises suddenly, and bolts out into the corridor.  He is followed by the German, puffing clouds of smoke.  The English and American sit a moment longer without speaking.  The ENGLISHWOMAN’S face is turned with a curious expression—­half pity, half fear—­towards the little man.  Then the Englishman gets up.]

Englishman.  Bit stuffy for you here, dear, isn’t it?

     [He puts his arm through hers, raises her, and almost pushes her
     through the doorway.  She goes, still looking back.]

American. [Gravely] There’s nothing I admire more’n courage.  Guess
I’ll go and smoke in the corridor.

[As he goes out the little man looks very wistfully after him.  Screwing up his mouth and nose, he holds the baby away from him and wavers; then rising, he puts it on the seat opposite and goes through the motions of letting down the window.  Having done so he looks at the baby, who has begun to wail.  Suddenly he raises his hands and clasps them, like a child praying.  Since, however, the