I.—Ab initio.
THE name of the father of Ginx's Baby
was Ginx. By a not unexceptional
coincidence, its mother was Mrs. Ginx. The
gender of Ginx's Baby was masculine.
On the day when our hero was born, Mr.
and Mrs. Ginx were living at Number Five,
Rosemary Street, in the City of Westminster.
The being then and there brought into the
world was not the only human entity to
which the title of "Ginx's Baby'' was or
had been appropriate. Ginx had been married
to Betsy Hicks at St. John's, Westminster,
on the twenty-fifth day of October,
18—, as appears from the "marriage lines''
retained by Betsy Ginx, and carefully collated
by me with the original register. Our
hero was their thirteenth child. Patient
inquiry has enabled me to verify the following
history of their propagations. On July the
twenty-fifth, the year after their marriage,
Mrs. Ginx was safely delivered of a girl. No
announcement of this appeared in the newspapers.
On the tenth of April following, the
whole neighborhood, including Great Smith
Street, Marsham Street, Great and Little
Peter Streets, Regent Street, Horseferry Road,
and Strutton Ground, was convulsed by the
report that a woman named Ginx had given
birth to "a triplet,'' consisting of two girls
and a boy. The news penetrated to Dean's
Yard and the ancient school of Westminster.
The Dean, Who accepted nothing on trust,
sent to verify the report, his messenger bearing
a bundle of baby-clothes from the Dean's
wife, who thought that the mother could
scarcely have provided for so large an addition
to her family. The schoolboys, on their
way to the play-ground at Vincent Square,
slyly diverged to have a look at the curiosity,
paying sixpence a head to Mrs. Ginx's friend
and crony, Mrs. Spittal, who pocketed the
money, and said nothing about it to the sick
woman.
This birth was announced in all the
newspapers throughout the kingdom, with the
further news that Her Majesty the Queen had
been graciously pleased to forward to Mrs.
Ginx the sum of three pounds.
What could have possessed the woman I
can't say, but about a twelvemonth after,
Mrs. Ginx, with the assistance of two doctors
hastily fetched from the hospital by her
frightened husband, nearly perished in a
fresh effort of maternity. This time two sons
and two daughters fell to the lot of the happy
pair. Her Majesty sent four pounds. But
whatever peace there was at home, broils
disturbed the street. The neighbors, who
had sent for the police on the occasion, were
angered by a notoriety which was becoming
uncomfortable to them, and began to testify
their feelings in various rough ways. Ginx
removed his family to Rosemary Street,
where, up to a year before the time when
Ginx's Baby was born, his wife had continued
to add to her offspring until the tale
reached one dozen. It was then that Ginx
affectionately but firmly begged that his wife
would consider her family ways, since, in all
conscience, he had fairly earned the blessedness
of the man who hath his quiver full of
them; and frankly gave her notice that, as
his utmost efforts could scarcely maintain
their existing family, if she ventured to present
him with any more, either single, or
twins, or triplets, or otherwise, he would
most assuredly drown him, or her, or them
in the water-butt, and take the consequences.