The Judenrat Chairman did not know what to think. “My Holstein,” he finally stammered.

“Moo!” the animal responded, as if she actually remembered who he was.

“The mothers don’t have enough milk,” Miss Bibelnieks explained. “It’s because of their deficient diet.”

But the Elder was beginning to recover. “Mothers? What mothers? Everybody has enough to eat!”

Just then young Zam interrupted. “Madame Gumbiner! Look here! It’s a boy!” He held the fresh Jew upside down by the ankles and gave him a slap. This caused him to open his mouth, and then to cry.

Trumpelman was beside himself. “Quiet! Quiet! This is strictly illegal! It can’t be allowed!”

The infant, perhaps because he was still upside down, continued wailing; then, from behind a false wall, a second baby joined in. Immediately a third, and then a fourth one, took up the cry. There was nothing for Miss Bibelnieks to do but slide back the movable wall. Thus was revealed for the first time the Ghetto’s secret maternity ward.

A corridor ran down the length of the building, and on both sides there were cots and cribs, full of new children. Some had their mothers with them. Most were alone. But every last one of them, because of the light, because of the excitement, was kicking, waving, and howling with all his might.

“It’s a factory!” cried Trumpelman.

“The sound of life! Of life!” Zam shouted. “When the history of the Baluty Suburb is written, our ward will be its brightest chapter!” The doctor was ecstatic. His eyebrows were lifted. Heaven knows what had happened to his sporty car. “Think of it! Someday these infants will grow into strong men and women. They will be scholars and lawyers and financiers. Perhaps they will never know they were born in a stable, in a building without plumbing of any kind. And I, I too, have been reborn! I am a new man! A different kind of person!”

But the leader of the Jews was yelling louder than Zam was. “Make them be quiet! I can have you put in jail! Shhh! Shhh! They will hear in the street! Hopeless! It’s hopeless! There must be two dozen at least!” The Elder had apparently lost his self-control. He began to run up the aisle between the screaming children. “You are under arrest!” he shouted at one of them. To another, whose body was scarlet, who had shining gums, he said, “Twenty-four hours to get out! The Judenrat is closing the building!” Then in a mad way he began to rattle the crib slats.

“Mister Chairman! Our President! Help me, Messiah!” It was the naked mother, whose frantic eyes were fixed on her newborn child.

Somehow Trumpelman heard her. He came back up the aisle. Before anyone could do or say anything, he plucked the infant from Zam’s hands and turned him right way round. At once the dimpled fellow stopped crying. His whole head was covered with wet, wavy hair. There was even a little fur on his back. Then, amazingly, he gripped Trumpelman’s hat brim and fiercely, reflexively, hung on. It was a terrible moment. The Elder was scowling. Even the pink and creamy infants fell silent, waiting to see what the man would do.