ss the paved court
to the house, where she pointed up some stairs, and left us to mount and
turn until it was no longer possible, until a confusion of doors barred
our way, when we rapped upon one. Another was opened, and we found
ourselves among the babies. There were, perhaps, twenty in all, the
larger children being in the school-room below; but even twenty
toddling, rolling babies, looking so very like the same image done in
putty over and over again, appears an alarming and unlimited number when
taken in a body. They rolled beneath our feet, they clung to our skirts,
they peeped out, finger in mouth, from behind the doors, they kicked
pink toes up from the swinging cradles, and in fact, like the clansmen
of Rhoderic Dhu, appeared in a most startling manner from the most
unexpected places. Plump little things they were, encased in shells of
blue-checked aprons, from the outer one of which they were
surreptitiously slipped upon our entrance to disclose a fresher one
beneath. How long this process could have continued with a similar happy
result, we did not inquire. Every head was tied up in a tight little
night-cap, giving them the appearance of so many little bag puddings.
Every face was a marvel of health and contentment, with one kicking,
screaming exception upon the floor. "Eengleesh," explained the Sister of
Charity who seemed to have them in charge, giving a sweeping wipe to the
eyes, nose, and mouth, gradually liquidizing, of this one, and trying in
vain to pacify a nature that seemed peaceless. Who was its mother, or
how the little stranger chanced to be here, we did not learn. On either
side of the long, narrow room hung the white-curtained cradles, each
with its pretty, pink quilt. At one end was an altar, most modest in its
appointments, consisting of hardly more than a crucifix and a vase of
flowers upon the mantel. As we entered the room, the sister stood before
it with a circle of white caps and blue checked aprons around her, a
circle of little clasped hands, of upturned eyes and lisping lips,
repeating what might have been, "Now I lay me," for anything we knew.
Our entrance brought wandering eyes and thoughts.

At the opposite end of the room, a wide, long window swung open,
revealing a pleasant garden down below, all green and blossoming, with
an image of the Virgin half hid among the vines. Cool, and fresh, and
green it seemed after the glare of the hot streets, a pleasant picture
for the baby eyes.