The Wonderful Baby. 81

“ Yes, I know that,” said Job. “Grandfather says”—

“Never mind what Grandfather says,” interrupted saucy
Nip, reclining on his velvet couch—the mouse’s back. “I only
intended to make a comparison between the large duckling
and the cuckoo and my hero. Well, the king godfather was
quite right, for this baby was destined to become a giant, and
would have pushed the other children about had it remained
at home in the nursery.

“ Nearer and nearer came the cradle-vessel while the beauti-
ful West Wind watched. Now there was peril of wreck on
the sharp rocks of that stern coast, but the West Wind cast
a silk cable and drew it safely to shore. The landing was not
too gentle: the infant was drenched in spray, and, emerging
gasping from the cold bath, felt a new life tingle in every vein.
That was the West Wind’s baptism of her charge. Next she
smiled and showed him the gifts stored in her mantle, which
were to be earned, not given away. <A shower of spring blos-
soms fell softly on the scented air, like a mist of pink snow;
then he saw sheaves of golden grain, then a cluster of purple
grapes, with crimson autumn leaves. The infant wanderer,
treading for the first time with tender baby feet the soil
of a rugged coast, and extending feeble little hands towards
these treasures, realized. vaguely the greatness of his own
destiny.

“ How the baby throve, to be sure! The cold winds swept
in from the Atlantic, freezing the spray into icicles to festoon
the granite cliffs; Winter seemed to frown on the stranger, yet
he grew.

“Greatest danger of all! Stealthy forms hovered in the dim,

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