Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-06-08

sang all the songs that I could think of
from the Cabalist1c hushababy" to
"Cease, rude Boreas!" I tried tenor,
and tried base; but the baby did not
know the difference. It seemed to think
it all base. The louder I sang, the loud
er it cried. It was bawl and squall, and
squall beat. The cry peevish became the
cry indignant, and the cry indignant be-
came the squall imperative. Blue, bottle
Pbuzzed with delight, and danced horn
pipe on the window, while the clock kept
up tantalizing s' Go it! 60 it!
In an unlucky moment, lifted the let
tie tempest out of the cradle. Never.
never, never Will commit such an act of
thoughtless impudence again! Before |
did so, could have truly sang with the
poet, " The white squall raves" but af
terWards the fiercest blasts of Boreas
seemed belching from that little throat
In the hope of quieting the tornado. [
took the baby in my arms, waddled it to
and fro in the room. tossed him up and
down till my shoulder ached, dandled it
on my knees, now the right one, now the
left but nothing would do. Like an
easterly gale, that multiplied squall ap-
peared to be endless. T felt really
alarmed. I was completely terrified
| saw visions of commissions and such like
ills that infant ''fesh is heir to-" If
had been IN the city, am sure that a
crowd would have been collected. I
might have been taken up and accused of
an attempt to commit nfanticide-per-
haps been published in the papers as a
wretch guilty Of cruelty to dumb ami
mails. Dumb! How I wished that the
dear family organ had been dumb! I
even envied the deaf men that pick up
cinders.
looked at the clock, and exclaimed in
despair when will the mother return?"
and the clock answered, with mocking
monotony, Not yet. not yet" Blue
bottle had ceased its buzzing, and re
turned to its old quarters over the dial
plate, to watch for the re appearance Of
the ship; perhaps asking, as impatiently
as | did, the question, s'When will she
return!" while the clock continued to
repeat, increasingly, "Not yet not yet"
knew not what to do, and rushed
dozen times to the door. hoping to see
the coming relief. But the walls of the
distant church and the houses beyond
were thick, and I could not look through
them. The brook was laughing in the
sunshine and murmuring ioyously as it
glided over the stones, and felt strong
temptation to pop the piping part of the
baby into it. | am sure the clock cried,
mockingly. ssDo it do it"' But the
thought Of a Coroner's jury restrained
me: country jury of Dutch Doors, with
shorts pipes in their mouths, and skulls
two layers of brick thick.
There was a rooster upon the fence flap
ping his wings and growing like a Trojan
i do believe it was over my perplexity:
the pigs were grunting in their sty, pull
ing each others ears for amusement and
COW was giving nourishment to her
calf in distant field. Suddenly a bright
idea struck me- [ seized an old tobacco
pipe that had been slowed away upon the
mantlc-piece, and immersing the bulb in
a trmbler Of water, thrust the stem into
baby's mouth. Baby was no genius. I
became satisfied of that in minute. i
is an attribute Of genius to accomplish its
desire with imperfect instruments. There
was no stoppage in the pipe: tried it
m Tself
was at my wits ends, and laid the
baby on the floor, cramming my fingers
into my ears. 1t was of no use. could
not shut out the sound. 1t was like
thousand earpiercing pipes" drilling me
through and through. I was riddled with
screams that touched like ealvanic wires
on every nerve. The clatter of three
story cotton mill, with hundred girls
talking of new bonnets through the din,
was nothing to it. All the locomotives
in the Union. tortured into state of ago
nv, would alone compare with it. But
mill and locomotive might be stopped
and baby would not be quieted even fora
moment. Anything but baby'S lungs
would have been worn out by such an
abuse of power. But their strength onlv
increased, seeming to acquire new g1pes
at every blast.
What would | not given for the sight
of a petticoat bearing down to my relief
Never did Robinson Crusoe on his desert
island gaze more longingly over the ocean
in search Of sail than | did down the
road for bonnet and curls. could have
! c,,,,loI tho e.,