The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1855-12-10
OBJ 1ailg 5onrnal
POOR LITTLE ROBERT.

POOR LITTLE ROBERT.
q Poorlittle Robert, And why is it poor little
Robert? He is dressed well and warmly, and
he lives in that handsome house, an only son
as an only child. His father is rich, and loves
him as fathers are prone to love only sons and
he has many friends, and enough to eat and
drink. lie also has many handsome toys a
rocking horse and blocks in abundance rail-
roads, and steamboats, and ships; and yet when
ever | see him, | cannot help saying, Poor
little Robert?
See how pale he looks and what a mature
expression of sadness rests upon his face.
say, Good morning Robert; how do you do
this morniDg?" II am very well,' he answers,
but he does not smile, and speaks with a
mournful tone, as if his little heart was heavy.
never see him playing with children, and
in the street he walks with the sober, heavy
step of sorrow. Almost every day | meet him
wandering alone from street to street and
sometimes he comes and sits upon the door
STEP especially on Sunday mornings, with his
little hands clasped across his breast, and his
head dropping, while his full dark eye fixed
upon the sky, or gazing upon the vacancy.
Poor little Roberti Very early in the morn
ing he is sent to school with a little basket on
his arm, which contains his dinner though
the schoolroom is but a little way from home,
and all the long noon he fingers about with
listless air, never joining in the merry sport of
other children, though always gentle and
kind.
"Why do you stay all day when you are
so little ways from home? ask the children of
Robert.
"Mother says must" he replies and a deep
er shade ofsadness spreads over his pale face.
AT night, when those of his own age are per-
mitted to leave school early, because they are
little ones and get weary, Robert stays,
though he looks more weary than the rest.
Come, Robert, why do you not go home?"
exclaims some merry hearted boy who is full
of glee, and whose heart is bounding with Joy
at the thought of freedom and happy home.
Mother says l must stay till school is DONE
Robert answers, while his eyes fill with tears
And when he does go home there is not
CLEAN of pleasure upon his face; he does not
leap the steps with the light bound of child
hood and hesltates before he rings the bell, as
if he dreaded to enter.
Poor little Roberti His mother breads to
see him enter too. She can not bear the noise
of children, though it seems to me that any
noise little Robert is inclined to make would
not disturb mouse She cannot permit him
to go into the parlor, because he might ''put
Things oub Vi place, anu IIl0 IOOLl WOulu uOL
be in order for callers. She can't have him in
the nursery because his steamboats, and rail-
roads make her nervous, ''she is so delicate"
She can't have him in her room, because almost
every night when he returns from school here
are dresses, and ribbons and laces laid out for
the evening ball or opera, and his childish curl
osity might tempt him to touch them. He
is not allowed to go into the kitchen, because
he muat not associate with servants, and ac-
quire their vulgar ways.
His mother cannot talk with him, as che
ask so many questions, and is so tiresome."
He must not cling to her and climb upon her
knee, because che muses. her collars and spoils
her dresses" When it is dark, his father
comes home and for a little while he is petted
and carressed ard feels that he is loved; but
he is soon hurried away to some scene of ex-
citement and Robert goes to bed alone, and
cries himself to sleep.
In the morning he does not get up Growing
and singing and whistling, and making ter
ribe noise," as mothers know that boys are
wont to do. No Robert rises very quietly and
steals away to some corner, almost as if
were guilty, wishing his papa would come
down for in his presence he feels little free
DOM But his papa sleeps very late, because
he is out long into the night; and when he does
make his appearance he is in such hurry 70
his breakfast, that he may "go down town.
that he has no time to devote to Robert. Be-
sides he has no idea of the desolation of the
little boys heart. He supplies him with books
and 'playthings' and sends him to school, and
though he sometimes thinks he is not like
other boys and fears he is dull the mother has
no such fears and he is left again to solitude
Poor little Robert? Could he only open
his heart and pour out its sorrows, he might
learn to skip and play and forget them; but
there is something whispering "She who
negIects and chides me is my mother; | must
not tell my grieE'' So he bears it like hero
and martyr. Now his spirit seems to bel
purified, and made manly and noble by his
suffering. God grant that when he is older,
and is driven forth by his mothers reproaches, |
evil ways may not tempt him, and reproachesl
come back to her with tenfold bitterness!
The innocent mirth of childhood is "tool
much for her delicate nerves." May she not
see the neglected boy become the ruined man.
may the lips which she seals to childish pratt
lie, and chills with icy coldness, never burn
with nnhallowed passion, and taunt her with
her worse than heathen cruelty!
''She cannot bear the gentle child in her
presence!" May she not live to see herself
a mother whom her son hatesl
A GREEK ROBIN HOOD.