And in her shining bassinet Peace Europa breathed softly through a mouth like a damp red rose, waved a tiny arm feebly, uncurled the new-born hand, with its pearly nails, as if she would catch and hold to her baby breast--forever and a day--the new-born happiness that had come to earth with her.
Beside her in the wee hospital crib, sharing the soft blanket in which the welcoming nurse had wrapped her, slumbered1 another, her Heavenly Twin--the Babe of Peace.
So it seemed to nurses and doctors who stole near to look at her, lying all oiled and shiny!
“If ever a baby was born at the hour of fate, she was!” breathed the intern2, the house-doctor, beaming through his glasses upon her. “And, by George! the mite3 seems to know it, too. Did you ever before see such a placid4 smile upon a new-born thing?”
“I never did,” replied the feminine superintendent5 of the Hospital. “I’m afraid I’ll have to keep out of the ‘baby-room,’--else I’ll break every rule--take her up now and again, to cuddle her, just for the sake of this won-der-ful hour in which she first saw--the--light.”
“Yes! and spoil her for her mother to take care of, afterwards--make her as nervous as a witch. I guess even my young sister--fifteen-year-old sister who’s a Camp Fire Girl and has taken a course in Baby Craft--would have more self-control than that,” rebuked7 the intern, but leniently8, joy oozing9 through his glasses; for his dearest chum was at the front, that devastated10 front, in far-away France--and now there was a chance of seeing him again.
“I feel that way, too, doctor,” said the superintendent, interpreting the look, not the rebuke6. “My twin brother is over there. He’s been wounded over and over again. Oh! how I dreaded11 his taking part in the next big drive. No need for it now! Will you listen to the whistles and horns--that hooting12 klaxon. Why! the world’s gone mad. And to think that this baby--a soldier’s child, too--should be born just at the moment, or a few minutes before it, that the word went out to cease firing!” The superintendent wiped her eyes.
“Was ever such a heavenly herald13?” breathed the doctor.
“Her mother feels so. She says the child is born for greatness. She has named her already, Peace Europa--Peace Europa Bush.”
“Gosh! Some name! A big contract to fasten upon six pounds and three-quarters of soft pink flesh and gristly bone,” mocked Dr. Lemuel Kemp. “Well! I suppose the heavenly infant will hold an unconscious reception, all day long, of those who are privileged to be admitted--in this Hades of a room.” He sniffed14 at the hothouse atmosphere of the baby-room--extremely hothouse--in which humanity’s latest buds--seventeen of them, with Europa as the center--were unfolding. “I’ll have to tip that young sister of mine the word to come round and see her. I suppose she’s somewhere out at the heart of the clamor now--in the crowded streets, with the rest of the family--the rest of the world--gone mad over the Armistice15 being signed. But, oh! she’ll have a fringe of enthusiasm left for the Peace baby,” smilingly. “She has been taking care of a neighbor’s child, two months old, for an hour a day lately; she showed me a pretty flame-colored honor-bead she had received for it.”
“A neat way of gilding16 the pill of service!” smiled the superintendent.
“Say, rather, of transforming it into a sugar pellet,” was the man’s reply, as the two left the tropical atmosphere of the hospital nursery.
Yes, War was over. Simultaneously17 with the birth of little Peace the word had gone forth18 to a hacked19 and harrowed and weary world to cease firing!
No wonder that the young Day, born with her, had gone mad--outside the hospital--a brimming-over child that could not contain its own happiness; that from shore to shore bells rang, sirens sang, klaxons hooted20 themselves hoarse--men and women, too--while underneath21 the wild riot--vociferous glee--tears baptized the dawn in many a home; radiant joy-tears on behalf of those who would come back, through which, like a reflection of the morning-star in ocean, shone the gold star of memory for those who would not!
But the star of service had not set. The wings which had come through the game, undrooping, must be spread anew for tried, if tamer, lights.
And so, as Europa still lay, oiled and shining, teasing the air with her first pin-prick cries--ere yet she was four hours old--there arrived two visitors to see her!
One was blinking like the sleepiest Owlet ever caught abroad at daylight; she had been awake since three, abroad since thirty minutes past; she was the doctor’s sister, Lilla Kemp, Little Owl22, of the Morning-Glory Group of Camp Fire Girls--a Glory Unit now, as it paraded the streets in a body, radiating ecstasy23 and anticipatory24 reunion--longed-for reunion with the brothers over there.
The other, being by name and nature of the order of the flame, looked as if she could never “drowse” again, as if she had caught the very heart of the sunlight joy upon the tips of her shading eyelashes and held it there in twinkling points of gold.
“I’ve made the duckiest--dearest--dandiest--little set of baby-clothes for her--for Peace Europa--her mother told me, long ago, that if she happened to be born on Peace Day, she would name her that,” said Sesooā, the Flame. “You should see them, Lil, the sweetest little dress--I put every teeny, tiny, microscopic26 stitch in it myself,”--there was a drop of water on the gold lashes25 now--“the daintiest fine linen27 gertrude and tiny shirtie. You see, I knew she was a soldier’s child--and due to arrive about this time.”
“And you’ll exhibit them, won’t you, at our next ceremonial meeting--a Peace Ceremonial, the Guardian28 said it would be, if the Armistice went through; she’s planning for it already. They’ll mean a new honor for hand craft, a pretty green honor-bead--those dear little baby-clothes.”
“Oh! I can hardly think about that now, or of anything, except--except that they’re a thanksgiving set--offering,”--the tears brimmed over at this golden point, two of them dropped upon Peace Europa’s blanket, saluting29 the invisible peace twin, new-born Peace Angel, sleeping beside her--“a thanksgiving offering because Iver’s coming back.... Oh! I can’t be s-sure yet, of course! He’s been wounded so often, burned with mustard gas, lost--lost all his beautiful wig30, as he jokingly said--his hair, you know, burned off.
“But when you come back,
As you will come back!”
The sister’s tear-breathed chant--each word a whirling joy-center--was crooned into Europa’s hooding31 blanket. “Isn’t she the darlingest baby you ever saw--little Peace Angel?” added Sara Davenport very softly. “I’m going to adopt her in a way; take care of her for an hour a day later on, if her mother will allow me, as you have been doing with that neighbor’s baby--Lilla.”
“Why don’t we adopt her forthwith, as a Group, directly she’s out of the hospital, make her clothes for her, bring her toys, and when she’s a year old, or so, take her to camp with us in the summer? Fancy her building sand-castles--little Peace Europa--among the cranberries32 on that white beach from which you put off in your radio-smeared dory, to signal the Coast Guards! Fancy that--our Peace Europa!”
Lilla’s eyes spilled over with humid light upon the blanketed mite.
“Too lovely for anything--if her mother will allow it!”
“Bless you! She’ll make no objection. They live in rather a stuffy33 little street; when she was well she took a boarder or two to help out while her husband was fighting over there--and she has three more children, the oldest twins, a boy and girl, between four and five, and a tot of two.”
“How--how about leaving Europa to sleep with her heavenly twin, the Peace Babe, and our taking those other twins out to see the big parade this afternoon--they’re soldier’s children,” suggested Sesooā, with sudden inspiration.
“Good idea! Only, of course, representatives from our group, from every Camp Fire in the city, are supposed to march with the Red Cross for which we have been knitting, sewing, making surgical34 dressings35, working in a war-canteen, and so forth, right along--to parade on this won-der-ful Peace Day!” Little Owl’s lip quivered; she, too, wore a blue-starred service-pin for a young uncle, who had been to her childhood a pal36 and a protector--prisoner now on enemy soil--would the Armistice bring him back?
“Oh! we’ll let Blue Heron--Olive--hold our Morning-Glory end up in the parade, with the Rainbow, Arline, to support her. They’ll attract attention enough. Olive is doing that now, I believe, since she made her début in society two months ago, at her stepmother’s wish, but very quietly, the War not being over then and every one of us ready to stand on our heads, as now, for joy.... For you will come back!... Ah, well!” the Flame’s lip quivered. “Ah--well!”
The latter sigh introduced the least dark shade of panic into the day’s rainbowed panegyrics37, lest he who was to return--Iver--Lieutenant O Pips of the alert eye, the observation post astuteness--might fall short of gaining his heart’s desire when he did return, might not get all he longed to ask from the Torch-Bearer whom he had seen in ceremonial dress, or kneeling by a gassed soldier, many and many a time, over there, when he missed the things that make life hum.
“Ah, well! no use in anticipating. At all events, I’ve got over being raspy on the score--the war-time score--of Olive’s cousins!” A little flaming shrug38 of shoulders now, as the two, with a last yearning39 look at Peace Europa--beneficent babe--a last almost reverent40 touch upon the tiny, pearly hand which had come to earth, as it seemed, bearing the boon41 mankind desired--turned to leave the tropical baby-room, the quiet hospital.
“Well! it’s to be the twins now, is it, Europa’s brother and sister?” said Lilla, as they emerged into the open, where, on all sides, the day, young yet, had gone mad, was running over with tomfoolery and innocent riot--a madcap child that could not contain its own gladness.
But the twins were no “peace handful,” as the two girls found. In the absence of their mother they were martyring a grandmother. They had baptized the joy of the day in mud-puddles and hung it out to dry from spikey fences--the boy of four and a half, especially--until not a clean, whole shred43 of clothing remained to him.
“Never mind! I’ll find something for him to wear,” proclaimed the grandmama hopefully. “Will I allow them to go an’ see the big parade with you!” eyeing the visitors with almost tearful gratitude44. “Oh! you’d better believe I will. Now! to see how I can rig him up. There are these rompers of Elsie’s, fresh from the tub--I’ve just ironed them!”
“But I can’t wear them. Oh! I c-can’t wear--them!” The boy eyed the tiny gingham garment as if Peace Day had, in aviator’s slang, become a pancake wreck45, its joy all flattened46. “They’re girl’s!”
He leveled a mud-caked forefinger47 at an utterly48 ignominious49 half-inch of embroidery50 decorating those romper-leglets of his twin sister.
“Daddy-man w-wouldn’t want me to wear them! Daddy-man’s a soldier--my Bob-daddy is! He’s over in France--now!”
Bob-sonny of four and a half looked sidelong out of a rolling eye-corner at the two spick and span Camp Fire Girls, in costume of red, white, and blue.
In this contest, however, those victorious51 colors, so triumphant52 over there, were coolly neutral.
He attacked the grandmother with pleadings--the two freshly laundered53 rings of embroidery weaving chains about the manikin soul within him, as he rebelliously55 eyed them.
“Come! Come! No more nonsense now!” Grandmama suddenly set her foot down. “I wonder you aren’t ashamed! You’ll have to wear ’em--or stay at home!”
She departed, on an errand, to the near-by kitchen.
Once more Bobbie’s insulted eye implored56 the Minute-Girls, still neutral.
Then he retreated into an adjoining bedroom, whose door was wide open, and knelt upon a low chair--desperately, as soldiers kneel in the trenches57.
“O God,” he pleaded, with full bursting heart of faith. “O God, please don’t let Her make me wear dem--dis day--dey’re--girl’s!”
Neutrality was at an end.
It was America’s hour and her spirit flamed in her Minute-Girl daughters, siding, all in an illumined flash, a tearful flash, with Bob-sonny against any camouflaging58 of his sex on this day when Columbia’s sons, his father among them, decorated and re-decorated, over there, were being hailed--and kissed (oft to their disgust) with delirious59 cries that “America--America had saved France!”
“You shan’t! You shan’t!” cried Sesooā, seizing upon the manikin who, not so many months ago, had seen them march away, his baby soul on fire. “You shan’t, Bobby! I’ll save you! See--see if I don’t!”
She was in the strange kitchen in an instant.
“Oh! Gran’ma,” she wheedled60, “I’m just so used to the wash-tub. I’ve done the whole family washing before now and won a flame-colored honor-bead for that little performance,” laughingly--tenderly. “As we’re going to take these heavenly twins off your hands for the rest of the day--I promise not to bring them home until they’re so tired an’ sleepy that they wouldn’t see a puddle42 if ’twas spattering them--won’t you--won’t you let me have one pair of Bob-sonny’s little knickerbockers, that cunning little blouse, too. Dear me! I’ll launder54 them for him in no time! When he sees the big parade go by he can hold up his head as ‘all boy,’--what there is of him--a fiery61 little son of big, fiery Bob-daddy, over in France, who has helped to bring the War to an end, ... and who doesn’t know yet that his little Peace Europa is waiting--waiting--for him on this side of the water, when he gets back--as he will get back!”
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1
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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intern
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| v.拘禁，软禁；n.实习生 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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leniently
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| 温和地，仁慈地 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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10
devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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11
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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12
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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13
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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14
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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hacked
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| 生气 | |
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hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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anticipatory
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| adj.预想的，预期的 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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29
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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31
hooding
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| v.兜帽( hood的现在分词 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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cranberries
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| n.越橘( cranberry的名词复数 ) | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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dressings
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| n.敷料剂；穿衣( dressing的名词复数 )；穿戴；（拌制色拉的）调料；（保护伤口的）敷料 | |
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36
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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panegyrics
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| n.赞美( panegyric的名词复数 )；称颂；颂词；颂扬的演讲或文章 | |
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38
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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41
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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42
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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43
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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44
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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45
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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46
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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47
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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48
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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49
ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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50
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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51
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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52
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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53
laundered
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| v.洗（衣服等），洗烫（衣服等）( launder的过去式和过去分词 )；洗（黑钱）（把非法收入改头换面，变为貌似合法的收入） | |
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54
launder
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| v.洗涤；洗黑钱（把来路可疑的钱弄得似乎合法） | |
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55
rebelliously
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| adv.造反地，难以控制地 | |
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56
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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58
camouflaging
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| v.隐蔽( camouflage的现在分词 )；掩盖；伪装，掩饰 | |
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59
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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60
wheedled
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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