"Christened!" poor Ellen cried in amazement. "And who's to christen him? We couldn't get a priest here in an hour--maybe not to-day."
"There's no need of a priest," Mrs. O'Brien said; "I'll christen him myself. Bring me some water there, Peter."
"But sure you can't do that," Peter protested. "Nobody but a priest could christen a child."
"I can christen the child as well as a priest," said Mrs. O'Brien; "you take a child to the priest to be christened, when it's easy and convenient, but when there's no priest near, and the child is sick and seems likely to die before one can come, anybody can christen it; and that christening stands, and it never has to be christened after. That's the law of the Church. Bring me the water. I never saw a child that seemed more likely to die than this one, if it's a child at all."
"What do you call the child?" Mrs. O'Brien asked.
"I think we'll call him Terence," Peter answered. "That was my grandfather's name, on my mother's side, and a decent man he was, and uncommon fond of myself when I was a bit of a gossoon, till he died, Heaven rest his soul! and I think I'd like to name the boy after him."
Now all that the child had been doing and all the noise that he had been making before were simply nothing to what he had been doing ever since Mrs. O'Brien first said the word "christen." He was screaming so that all this talk could scarcely be heard, and it was almost more than Mrs. O'Brien could do to hold him, when she took him in her arms. But she did hold him for a moment with one arm, while she dipped up some water with her hand and sprinkled it over him. Then the creature gave one great jump and was away from her and fell on the floor.
Before anybody else could move, Mrs. O'Brien herself picked him up and laid him on the bed. There was no sign that he was hurt. No child that was hurt could have screamed as he did. "Come, John," said Mrs. O'Brien, "we've done all that we can."
"May I walk back with you a piece?" said Peter. "There was something more that I was thinking I would say."
"Come back with us, of course, and welcome," said John.
They left the house and walked along the street.
"I think it was right, what you done, Mrs. O'Brien," said Peter. "I can't think about the child the way you think, but it was right what you done."