Thinking black; 22 years without a break in the long grass of Central ...

238 THINKING BLACK
A tremendous business this teething institution.
Farther North, a Chief with quite a dandified air
produced a royal babe who had passed the curious
ceremony of " the justification of the child." He certified
the youngster as his very own, the scion of a Royal
House, with the real Kalamata nose as flat as a button and
the real Kalamata pugnacious bawl. Or to speak in the
language of printers and publishers, an exact edition in
duodecimo of the larger work in folio, both bound in best
brown leather. Baby was beplastered with white chalk,
and feeling so uncomfortable that he bawled as loudly as
though he were twins. For to-day his delighted mother
could scarcely believe her eyes when she beheld her off-
spring had really sprouted a tooth normally—and bang !
went an old flintlock to herald the great news. A long
swing of the pendulum this, for up to this point the
child has been looked at askance, and reckoned only a
mere "/if"—wont somebody invent a new pronoun?—
mere mushroom pretender to babyhood, your toothless
child being a nonentity. Right on from birth, the
Spartan mother has made him rough it, all injudicious
coddling being considered detrimental. No rag of calico
is bare baby allowed to wear, even out in the cold night
air, the elastic functions of the body thus getting a chance
to be exercised. Malnutrition they do object to, however,
and^the cherub is nearly choked by the purely mechanical
manner a coarse porridge is rammed down his little throat.
The youngster's mouth is opened so wide that it mono-
polises nearly five-sixths of his face, and through this huge