[The Dutch Youth laughs.  The English unconsciously emerge from
     their newspapers.]

American.  My!  That would appear to be quite a domestic incident.

[The Englishman suddenly utters a profound “Ha, Ha!” and disappears behind his paper.  And that paper and the one opposite are seen to shake, and little sguirls and squeaks emerge.]

German.  And you haf got her bundle, and her baby.  Ha! [He cackles drily.]

American. [Gravely] I smile.  I guess Providence has played it pretty low down on you.  It’s sure acted real mean.

[The baby wails, and the little man jigs it with a sort of gentle desperation, looking apologetically from face to face.  His wistful glance renews the fore of merriment wherever it alights.  The American alone preserves a gravity which seems incapable of being broken.]

American.  Maybe you’d better get off right smart and restore that baby.  There’s nothing can act madder than a mother.

Little man.  Poor thing, yes!  What she must be suffering!

     [A gale of laughter shakes the carriage.  The English for a
     moment drop their papers, the better to indulge.  The little man
     smiles a wintry smile.]

American. [In a lull] How did it eventuate?

Little man.  We got there just as the train was going to start; and I jumped, thinking I could help her up.  But it moved too quickly, and—­and left her.

     [The gale of laughter blows up again.]

American.  Guess I’d have thrown the baby out to her.

Little man.  I was afraid the poor little thing might break.

     [The Baby wails; the little man heaves it; the gale of laughter
     blows.]

American. [Gravely] It’s highly entertaining—­not for the baby.  What kind of an old baby is it, anyway? [He sniff’s] I judge it’s a bit—­niffy.

Little man.  Afraid I’ve hardly looked at it yet.

American.  Which end up is it?

Little Mam.  Oh!  I think the right end.  Yes, yes, it is.

American.  Well, that’s something.  Maybe you should hold it out of window a bit.  Very excitable things, babies!

ENGLISHWOMAN. [Galvanized] No, no!

Englishman. [Touching her knee] My dear!

American.  You are right, ma’am.  I opine there’s a draught out there.  This baby is precious.  We’ve all of us got stock in this baby in a manner of speaking.  This is a little bit of universal brotherhood.  Is it a woman baby?

Little man.  I—­I can only see the top of its head.

American.  You can’t always tell from that.  It looks kind of over-wrapped up.  Maybe it had better be unbound.