Welter advanced, dropped to a squat and reached toward the bath. He gave it a few experimental rattles, then made a disconsolate noise and shuffled away from it again. "Leveretia," he called out in notes of great solemnity, "I cannot throw this child out into the street." "Well said, Welter," responded his wife, in tones of quiet pride. "No...I mean that I cannot. I would dearly like to, but whenever I try to grip the bath the goose pecks my ear and the child nips my fingers with our sugar-cutters."