"THIS ENGLAND"

THE BABY'S GUARDIAN

"NANNY," AN INSTITUTION

(By Edgar Wallace.)

The newest addition to the nursery called loudly f or ; attention. Nanny, who knows the exact urgency denoted by every inflection of squeal, hurried away. The squeal softened to a plaintive wail, presently ceased altogether.

"Wonderful people—English nannies. Take yours. She's been handling babies for. over thirty years; all sorts of babies —English, French, German, Argentine —and she's not siefe to death of the job. She's watched 'em grow up and out of control; she's nursed the babies of the babies ; she herself brought up, and she's just as ready to quarrel with the cook over the quality of the beef-juice as ever!" ■ Not only that, but the properly constituted nanny is all for the stylo and dignity of babyhood. - "To'u don't mind my saying so/ she says in a hushed, pained voice, "but I thought the perambulator looked a little shabby in the park this morning. Of course it has had a lot of wear. But fey,th£. side of Eric's.and Hyacinth's perambulator it looked. .. . Well, I thought it looked shabby." Eric, I understand, is two years of age. He has an-aristocratic father, with a title and a number of decorations. ;Brit to N^nny he has no existence. : He is attached to Eric; a shadowy, imponderable quantity in the eternal background. Hyacinth has an important parent not unkown in the world of medicine. But the real entity, from Nanny's point of view, is this diminutive person, who lords or ladies it from a pram which is distinctly superior in appearance and quality to my pram. She lives everlastingly in a world entirely populated by babies. A policeman, to her is a person who holds up' the traffic to allow babies to cross the road in safety. She never really took an-interest in His Majesty the King until she learnt that somewhere were preserved the little shoes he wore and the robes in which he was christened. The weather is good or bad, not by any other standard than its suitability for infants, and shops are interesting or not interesting according to the enthusiasm their window displays will arouse in the bosom of a three-year-old baby with a passion for balloons. And if this young lady invents weird names for members of the household they are instantly adopted by Nanny. 'Mummie" may be Mrs. SomethingSomebody to. all the world, but she-is mummie" to the lady in the starched . white cap. _ "No real nanny ever grows up—that is why they Hvo to be ninety," said tho doctor. "They have dual minds. I know one: nanny who speaks four languages fluently, and is intensely interested in the European situation, but her real life is centred in the nursery. She can talk to a baby of three—carry on a conversation for hours, and both parties can understand ono another Have you ever tried to taik intelligently to a baby for ten minutes? Try! You'll feel like a mental case at the end of .five;"

On the question of' clothes, Nannyis an autocrat. She is entitled to be. becausp she spends quite a lot of time turning them over and mending a rent here and a hole there, and washing then* when :the rest of the family are thinking of going to bed, and tying up little bundles of pants with blue ribbon She applies for new clothes at cunnxngly chosen:moments, and urges the claim of her client in tho tone one would employ with a hard-hearted uncle, supposing you were^trying to borrow a fiver. The impression is conveyed, that it is only by an appeal to your, wife's better nature that tho new hat or,the. new coat can materialise. "I think she ought to have a woollen eapy, Hyacinth has one—blue." \Demands for wardrobe never go to the father; His donatory province is confined to the expensive etceteras. Nanny is a phenomenon belonging to the• comfortable, class. She lives, .in prim squares, nice country houses, and the cosy suburbs. She is Her Eoyal Highness'- and- .My Lady's prop and stay;, she lifts a burden from Mrs. Bourgeoisie.

Generally speaking, her beginning was scientific. ' Hidden away in her box is the certificate awarded by somo maternity' hospital authorising her to act in critical circumstances. In one sense, though she would nbt like to-be told this, she is the legitimate successor of the unqualified Mrs. Gamp, who was called out at all. hours of the night to assist ladies in their more delicate duties. •:

More potent than- a captain's guard, she does a ..perpetual sentry-go about the cot... No chill draught may enter the protected zone; all admitted to the presence are carefully scrutinised. She will have no promiscuous kissing of in-fants-^a measles epidemic drives her into complete isolation. "That was a nice little boy who called: to-day—l suppose there is no sickness in the. family?" ".'•■: She has a- quick ear for rumours of epidemics, and demands (subtly and artfully) a clean bill of health from every nurse she meets in her daily perambulations, before she allows her client to get more closely acquainted with the young mail who occupies the adjacent baby carriage. Pussy? Yes. That is her job. Hers is the one occupation of life in which fasßJness is a virtue.

I was.talking to a German diplomatist a long time ago. He could not be accused' of being Anglophile, though he did go very violently in the other direction. He disliked the English on paradoxical grounds, Since he traced Germany's downfall to William's obsessive hatred of this country, which influenced his policy. There were certain of our qualities he admired; certain of our types.

"The English nanjy is, of course, incomparable. I wonder she. hasn't a literature of her own. "We were all brought up by her, and she gave us something which has lasted all our lives. It <isn 't the school or the' university. nor yet the codes we acquire at these places; it is the nanny who makes ladies and gentlemen, and as for the codes— well, we are acquainted with them before we ever see the gymnasium or cottage. You' may think it is absurd, but none the less it is a fact that I do things or don't do them to this day because of my nanny's teaching! "And it isn't only in the commonplace intercourses of daily life that her influence is felt—the psychologist who cares to examine first causes will have no., difficulty in tracing the reflection of 'his nanny in the acts and utterances of public men. 1, was rather "an impetuous child, and she trained me to silence when I was in a fury to make, rather unpleasant retorts. In a sense she shaped me for a diplomatic career. That may sound ridiculous, but I- know how true it isl" I have heard other men give the same testimony. The psyeho-patholo gist knows only too well the immense importance of those early influences. And exactly what are they? I confess that for a week after this conversation I played eavesdropper at the nursery door. ■ MWe mnsn't throw things on the floor, must we? . .. < Baby must be a, little lady and eat her pudding nice-

ly. . ... ; . I know a little girl who never speaks until her pndding is finished. . . ."

"Why?" asks a voice. ''Because she's such a little lady. .'' Not exactly a training for a diplomatic career.

Nanny's is an amazing life of selfsacrifice; a life of little heartaches as the children grow up and away from her. I never go to a great public school without seeing the shades of a thousand wistful nannies watching the boys at roll-call. Sandhurst is full of those gentle ghosts, and the universities —and even the great offices of State. I should rather like to have met Winston 's nanny. ' What stories she could tell!