A Mother

It was 8 a.m. in Brussels. The debauchees of the previous night were asleep. The famed fountains exuded sparkling water in the sunlight as passers-by bought their morning newspapers and hurried to their cafe an lait at nearby restaurants. There was a faint bustle in the air as the capital began to get into its business stride.

Suddenly a great boom disturbed the comparative quiet--the sound of artillery fire. Boom! Coffee cups stopped halfway to open mouths. Boom! Newspapers fell to the breakfast table. Boom! Boom! Boom! Inert bodies squirmed between the sheets. Boom! Boom! Boom! Alert businessmen and women resigned themselves to a long count--they hoped it would be a very long count. Boom! Boom! Boom! Twenty-one blank shots, in all, were fired. Ears strained for the 22nd. The pause grew longer and longer, but the 22nd boom never came.

Then all Brussels knew that a baby daughter* had been born to Crown Princess Astrid, wife of Crown Prince Leopold of Belgium, to whom she was married last year (TIME, Nov. 15). Had 101 booms startled the city, it would have signified the birth of an heir presumptive to the throne of the Belgians.

"Ah, well," muttered the Belgians with an expressive Latin shrug, "the next will be a boy."

Meantime, news came from the royal palace that the new Belgian princess would be named Josephine Charlotte Ingeborg Elizabeth Marie Jose Marguerite Astrid. King Albert is to be godfather and the Grand Duchess of Luxembourg, godmother. Foreign rulers, including the Pope, wired congratulations.

Soon church bells were ringing, railroad engines screeched, factory sirens shrieked; Belgian and Swedish flags came out like a plague; newspapers published extras. In the evening, so intent were loyal Brussels citizens on celebrating the royal joy, and so little were they disappointed by the advent of a princess instead of a prince, that they poured into the theatres and cafes by thousands, so that seats and tables were not to be had for love or money.

In the distant U. S., at South Bend. Ind., Prince William of Sweden was apprised of the birth of a daughter to his cousin, Princess Astrid. Asked whether he intended to cable his congratulations to Prince Leopold, the Prince replied:

"Oh, no, I wouldn't dare. He [the young father] is way above; he is a Crown Prince."

*The little pink Princess was put into a cradle used by the children of King Albert. Of Alsatian design, with rubber-tired wheels, the cradle was optimistically decorated in pink, the color for boys.