“There’s no fun like going about vaccinating and looking at all the pretty babies,” said he.  “Now we shall see whether it’s a fine lot you’ve brought me this year.”

The man was not only the sexton of the parish, where he had lived all his life, but he was also the schoolmaster.  He had vaccinated the mothers, had taught them, and seen them confirmed and married.  Now he was going to vaccinate their babies.  This was the children’s first contact with the man who was to play such an important part in their lives.

It seemed to be a good beginning.  One mother after the other came forward and sat down on a chair at the table, each holding her child so that the light would fall upon its bared left arm; and the sexton, chattering all the while, then made the three tiny scratches in the smooth baby skin, without so much as a peep coming from the youngster.  Afterward the mother took her baby over to the fireplace to let the vaccine dry in.  Meantime she thought of what the sexton had said of her child—­that it was large and beautiful and would some day be a credit to the family; that it would grow up to be as good as its father and grandfather—­or even better.

Everything passed off thus peacefully and quietly until it came to Katrina’s turn at the table with her Glory Goldie.

The little girl simply would not be vaccinated.  She screamed and fought and kicked.  Katrina tried to hush her and the sexton spoke softly and gently to her; but it did no good.  The poor little thing was uncontrollably frightened.

Katrina had to take her away and try to get her quieted.  Then a big, sturdy boy baby let himself be vaccinated with never a whimper.  But the instant Katrina was back at the table with her girl the trouble started afresh.  She could not hold the child still long enough for the sexton to make even a single incision.

Now there was no one left to vaccinate but Glory Goldie of Ruffluck.  Katrina was in despair because of her child’s bad behaviour.  She did not know what to do about it, when Jan suddenly emerged from the shadow of the door and took the child in his arms.  Then Katrina got up to let him take her place at the table.

“You just try it once!” she said scornfully, “and let’s see whether you’ll do any better.”  For Katrina did not regard the little toil-worn servant from Falla whom she had married as in any sense her superior.

Before sitting down, Jan slipped off his jacket.  He must have rolled up his shirt sleeve while standing in the dark, at the back of the room, for his left arm was bared.

He wanted so much to be vaccinated, he said.  He had never been vaccinated but once, and there was nothing in the world he feared so much as the smallpox.

The instant the little girl saw his bare arm she became quiet, and looked at her father with wide, comprehending eyes.  She followed closely every movement of the sexton, as he put in the three short red strokes on the arm.  Glancing from one to the other, she noticed that her father was not faring so very badly.