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He cherished a theory that giganteum is unfairly named. 'One does not know if he observed that those white spheres lay in the very track that old woman of yesterday had followed, or if he noted that the last of the series swelled not a score of yards from the gate of the Caddles' cottage. If he observed these things, he made no attempt to place his observation on record.
"Um!" said Redwood, after he had cluckered to the infant for a space. "Oom!" He told Mrs. Caddles the baby was a very fine child indeed, a thing that was getting well home to her intelligence and he ignored her altogether after that. Presently she left the barn through sheer insignificance. "Now you've started him, you'll have to keep on with him, you know," he said to Mrs. Skinner.
Beyond he found another puff-ball, one of the second crop, rising like a roc's egg out of the abnormally coarsened turf. The thing came upon him in a flash. He did not take his usual round that morning. Instead he turned aside by the second stile and came round to the Caddles' cottage. "Where's that baby?" he demanded, and at the sight of it, "Goodness me!"
Greenfield could observe no evidence of peculation, and the order for an increasing daily supply to the Caddles' nursery was issued. Scarcely had the first instalment gone, when Caddles was back again at the great house in a state abjectly apologetic. "We took the greates' care of 'em, Mrs. Greenfield, I do assure you, mum, but he's regular bust 'em!
It was already beyond maternal porterage, and Caddles, staggering indeed, but grinning triumphantly at quantitatively inferior parents, bore it back to the free-sitting occupied by his party. "I never saw such a child!" said the Vicar.
Caddles would say she had with the help of a good memory become quite a florid and vigorous individuality since Mrs. Skinner died. "Since your poor dear grandma was took, there's no abiding you. Don't you arst no questions and you won't be told no lies.
He turned upon the cool shadows within, and amidst spots and blurs of colour regarded the giant child amidst that Rembrandtesque gloom, naked except for a swathing of flannel, seated upon a huge truss of straw and playing with its toes. "I begin to see what we have done," he said. He mused, and young Caddles and his own child and Cossar's brood mingled in his musing. He laughed abruptly.
She told him it was a serious matter, the way his child was going on. "It's 'is appetite, my ladyship," said Caddles, with a rising note. "Check 'im, my ladyship, you can't," said Caddles. "There 'e lies, my ladyship, and kicks out 'e does, and 'owls, that distressin'. We 'aven't the 'eart, my ladyship. If we 'ad the neighbours would interfere...." Lady Wondershoot consulted the parish doctor.
Along one wall, above the dado, ran a crowded array of black-framed photographs and photogravures, showing his son and Cossar's sons and others of the Boom-children at various ages and amidst various surroundings. Even young Caddles' vacant visage had its place in that collection.
She issued it first to her butler, and very suddenly, so that she made him jump. He was clearing away the breakfast things, and she was staring out of the tall window on the terrace where the fawns would come to be fed. "Jobbet," she said, in her most imperial voice "Jobbet, this Thing must work for its living." "Keep him employed," said Lady Wondershoot. "That's the tip for Master Caddles."
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