ARGENTINA: Full House

Buenos Aires had something better to talk about than war or politics—a set of bouncing quintuplets. Most amazing thing about them was that they were already eight months old when they were discovered. Said the man-on-Calle Florida: “We’ve beaten the Yankees. What magnificent people we are!”*

Until last week Argentina didn’t know its good fortune. Then Mrs. Leila Drew, who writes a column “Mainly for Women” in the English language Buenos Aires Herald, picked up a bit of gossip. She was off like a hound for the pleasant suburb of Villa Urquiza. There the trail got hot. Tradesmen had played with the rumored quints, delivered eight bottles of milk a day to their parents’ home. A drug-clerk had seen them brought in batches to be weighed on the scales of the Farmacia San Patricio. Neighbors had seen them being aired in sets of two, two and one.

Leila Drew rang the gate bell of the modernistic house at No. 1770 Calle Tronador. Inside, she passed two babies playing at a yard man’s knee. She asked to see Señora Diligenti. The Señora was nervous and reluctant, but after a woman-to-woman sales talk Mrs. Drew got a look at the other three babies, in neat yellow cribs in a sunny downstairs nursery. She even had her hands on a picture of all five, when forceful Papa Diligenti (whose name means just what it looks like) came in and took it away.

Leila streaked back to her editor, who was skeptical. The Herald sat on the story four days, trying to check its accuracy. Then it ran the story on the back page, with plenty of hedging. By noon a horde of reporters besieged the once-calm Diligenti house. Cried Papa Diligenti: “I’ve kissed peace good-by forever.”

Delfino v. Dafoe. Last July the prosperous Diligentis were vacationing in a fashionable resort in the Córdoba Hills, 400 miles from Buenos Aires. The Señora, who was expecting, came down to Buenos Aires for a routine check-up by slender, capable Midwife Ana Delfino. Her personal calculations allowed her 20 days, but the midwife knew better, put her to bed at once in her own house. At 9 a.m. on July 15, 1943, little Franco arrived, followed at 20-minute intervals by María Fernanda, Carlos Alberto, and María Ester. María Cristina, the last and smallest, appeared an hour later. Each baby weighed about one kilogram (2.2 lb.).*

Midwife Delfino wrapped the babies in cotton wool, bedded them down with hot-water bottles. There was no miraculous Dr. Dafoe, hardly any trouble. Papa Diligenti hurried back from Córdoba. After five days he took the mother and three of the babies home, the others two days later. Remembering the Dionne circus with horror, he swore the midwife to secrecy. Says Midwife Delfino: “I am a mother myself, and I swore on the lives of my children. . . .”

Devoted to Babies. Franco G. Diligenti, born in Milan, Italy, 45 years ago, came to Argentina in 1923. He is tall, well-built, with thin blond hair and slightly bulgy blue eyes. Starting from scratch, he made about a million dollars, owns three large farms, a dye works, a textile mill and a vegetable-oil factory. Señora Ana María Aversavo de Diligenti, pleasant, plump, 42 and also born near Milan, came to Argentina as a singer with a small opera company, leaving a husband in Italy. She gave up her career eight years ago when she and a small son, by her first husband, moved in with Señor Diligenti.

Divorces are slow in Catholic Argentina. She had two more children (one the single survivor of a set of triplets) before she was legally free to marry her common-law husband. But marry they did on March 17, 1942. Only grimly Catholic Argentines, who do not recognize divorce or subsequent remarriage, will call the quints illegitimate.

The Diligenti household is a pleasant one, mostly devoted to babies. Except for the dining room, the entire ground floor of the comfortable eight-room house is a three-room nursery for the quints. The rest of the family live upstairs or in a made-over garage. The establishment runs like clockwork, the babies taking naps at staggered intervals to make them easier to care for.

Only two of the quints are identical; the rest are all types, ranging from blond to dark. Papa Diligenti calls them a “full house”—three queens, two jacks. They are healthy, normal children; they were bottle-raised in their own home, never saw a doctor. Their diet is sensible, plain, with plenty of fruit juices.

It is still a mystery how quintuplets could be concealed so long. Perhaps their parents’ irregular relationship kept them socially isolated. Possibly Argentine newsmen are not alert. But it is no mystery to Papa Diligenti. He planned it that way, even registering the births in different offices or not at all. Midwife Delfino kept her pledge. The household was mum as clams. Forceful Papa Diligenti had made his wishes clear: “Do I want a bunch of maniacs running through my house, bulbs flashing in my babies’ faces? I want my children to live normal lives. . . . I don’t want to have to visit my own children. . . . Dionne was not prepared, but I am.”*

* Buenos Aires also had a set of quadruplets last week, but all of them died. * The heaviest twin ever recorded arrived recently in Birmingham, England. He weighed 10 lb. 14 oz. His nonidentical brother weighed 8 lb. 4 oz. * For news of Papa Dionne, see page 24.