and light the lamp, that we may see this Godsend more thoroughly. Perhaps we shall find something that will be well to know for the future. You have good eyes; we must take notice of every thread.”
Father Cvok did as he was bid, and even cautiously let down the window-blinds, though this was unnecessary, his house being at a little distance from the village, standing alone on higher ground, and having a garden under both windows, fenced in by a wooden paling.
Naninka laid the foundling on the table, and opening its clothes with an experienced hand, spoke on with occasional interruptions. “It is the child of some gentle folk. I thought so immediately. It wasn’t from want that its mother put it away. This linen is as fine as cambric. Aha! look what a good guess I made. Sure enough it is a boy, and no mistake, and as fine a little fellow as could be found. Now kick away with arms and legs; so—that’s it, my birdie. Stretch yourself again, do. He’s as straight as an arrow. There’s nothing at all among the linens, not a line. Stop! here’s something fastened to a cord round its neck—a gold medal, with the Virgin Mary on one side; I can’t see well what’s on the other.”
“It’s a monogram—‘Maria’”
“Now we’re as wise as we were before. Who knows but there may be something sewed up in the little bed?” Naninka felt it all over with her hard-worked hand. “No, there’s nothing in it but feathers, ”she said. Cvok reminded her that there was still the parcel to be examined.
“That’s true,” said Naninka; “I’ll run for it. Stand here, your reverence, near the baby, for fear it should fall from the table. But we must cover it with something.”
The priest took off his old dressing-gown and spread
