Chasuble. But is there any particular infant in whom you are interested, Mr.
Worthing? Your brother was, I believe, unmarried, was he not?
Jack. Oh yes.
Miss Prism. [Bitterly.] People who live entirely for pleasure usually are.
Jack. But it is not for any child, dear Doctor. I am very fond of children. No!
the fact is, I would like to be christened myself, this afternoon, if you have
nothing better to do.
Jack._I_don’t_remember_anything_about_it._Chasuble.'>Chasuble. But surely, Mr. Worthing, you have been christened already?
Jack. I don’t remember anything about it.
Chasuble. But have you any grave doubts on the subject?
Jack. I certainly intend to have. Of course I don’t know if the thing would
bother you in any way, or if you think I am a little too old now.
Chasuble. Not at all. The sprinkling, and, indeed, the immersion of adults is
a perfectly canonical practice.
Jack. Immersion!
Chasuble. You need have no apprehensions. Sprinkling is all that is
necessary, or indeed I think advisable. Our weather is so changeable. At
what hour would you wish the ceremony performed?
Jack. Oh, I might trot round about five if that would suit you.
Chasuble. Perfectly, perfectly! In fact I have two similar ceremonies to
perform at that time. A case of twins that occurred recently in one of the
outlying cottages on your own estate. Poor Jenkins the carter, a most hard-
working man.
Jack. Oh! I don’t see much fun in being christened along with other
babies. It would be childish. Would half-past five do?
36
Chasuble. Admirably! Admirably! [Takes out watch.] And now, dear Mr.
Worthing, I will not intrude any longer into a house of sorrow. I would
merely beg you not to be too much bowed down by grief. What seem to us
bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.
