[As he speaks there is seen in the corridor doorway the little man, with the woman’s baby still on his arm and the bundle held in the other hand.  He peers in anxiously.  The English, acutely conscious, try to dissociate themselves from his presence with their papers.  The Dutch youth laughs.]

German.  ‘Ach’!  So!

American.  Dear me!

Little man.  Is there room?  I can’t find a seat.

American.  Why, yes!  There’s a seat for one.

Little man. [Depositing bundle outside, and heaving baby] May I?

American.  Come right in!

     [The German sulkily moves his bag.  The little man comes in and
     seats himself gingerly.]

American.  Where’s the mother?

Little man. [Ruefully] Afraid she got left behind.

     [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.]