Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-08-23
EVENING STAR,
THE FAMILY-H0ME SCENES
BY 7. 8. ARTHUR

| ana make the mouse bedlam instead of q
quiet home Tom" she spoke sharply to a
bright fellow who was pounding away with a
| wooden hammer on a chair, and making a
most intolerable din, stop that noise this in
slant. And you, EN-, not word more from
your lips. If you can't leave in peace with
your sister, I'm separate you. Dye hear
hush this instant"
| Then make Julia give me my pincushiop
She's got it in her pocket"
Julia.
| "You have, say"
az tell you I haven't %
"Will you hush 2" The face of Mrs Lyon
was fiery red; she stamped upon the floor as
| she spoke.
"I want my pincushion. Make julie give
me my pincushion."
Irritated beyond control, Mrs. Lyon caught
| Julia by the arm, and thrusting her hand into
her pocket, drew out piece of lace and a
penknife.
II told you it wasn't there; couldn't you
believe me-"
This impertinence was more than the mo-
ther could endure, and, acting upon her in.
dignant impulse, she boxed the ears of Julia
soundly, conscious at the same time that EN-
| lily was chiefly to blame for all this trouble
| by wrong accusation Of her sister; she
| turned upon her also, administering to her
likewise an equal punishment Frightened
| by all this, the younger chillren, whose in
cessant noise for the last half hour had con-
tributed to the overthrow of their mothers
| temper, became suddenly quiet, and skulked
away into the corners; and the baby, that
was seated on the floor between two pillars,
curved her quivering lips, and glanced fear
| fully up at the distorted face in which she
had been used to see the love light that made
her heaven.
deem ouiet foIIovad tb;s 49,, ~ ,,,.:
like the hush which succeeds the storm Alas
| for the evil traces that were left behind Alas
tor the repulslve image of that mother, da-
guerreotyped in an instant, on the memory Of
| her children, and never to be effaced How
| many, many times, in after years, will not a
sigh heave in their bosoms, at that painful
reflection looks out upon them from amid the
| dear remembrances Of childhood
woman with good impulses, but with
scarcely any self-control, was Mrs Lyon. She
loved her children, and desired their good
That they showed so little forbearance one
with another, manifested so little fraternaI
| feeling, grieved her deeply.
My whole life is made unhappy by il"
she would often say; "what is to be done 20
1t is dreadful to think of family growing up
In disorder and disunion. Sister at variance
with sister, and brother lifting his hand against
brother.
As was usual after the ebullition of passion.
Mrs. Lyon, deeply depressed in spirits, as we'll
as discouraged, retired from her family to
srieve and weep Lifting the frightened baby
from the floor, she drew her head tenderly
against her bosom, and leaving the nursery,
sought the quiet Of her room There in re-
pentance and humiliation, she recalled the
stormy scene through which she had Just pass
ed, and blamed herself for yielding bIindIy
to passion, instead OF meeting the trouble
among her children with a quiet discrimina-
ton.
To weeping, calmness succeeded. Still she
was perplexed, i'll mind, as grieved at her own
want of control. What was to be done with
her children? How were they to be governed
Alright! Painfully did she feel her own unfit
ness for the task. By this time the baby was
asleep, and the mother felt something of that
tranquil peace that every true mother knows,
when a young babe is slumbering on her
bosom. A book lay on the shelf near where
she was sitting, and Mrs. Lyon, scarcely con-
scious of the act, reached out her hand for the
volume. She opened without feeling any in
terest In Its contents, but she had read only a
few sentences, when this remark arrested her
attention:
1" All right government of children begins
with self government.
The words seemed written for her, and the
truth expressed was elevated instantly into
perception. She saw it in the clearest light,
aAA SAVoOu hHc bOOk anu DOWeQ l6r head
sad acknowledgment Of her own errors Thus
for some time she had been sitting, when the
murmur Cf the voices from below grew more
and moro distinct, and she was soon aroused
to the painful fact that, as usual, when left
alone, the children were in a wrangIe among
themselves Various noises, as of pounding.
and throwing chairs and other pieces Of fur
niture, were heard, and at length a loud
scream, mingled with angry vociferations,
Indignation swelled instantly in the heart
of Mrs. Lyon hurriedly placing the sleeping
baby in its crib, she started for the scene Of
disorder, moved by an impulse to punish Sc
verely the young rebels against authority,
and was half way down stairs, when her feet
wore checked by remembrance Of the senti
ment & All right government of children be-
gins with self-gOvernment
"Will anger subdue anger Whom storm
meets storm, is the tempest still ?" These
were questions asked Of herself almost invol
unfairly. "This is no spirit in which to meet
my children. 1t never has, and never will
enforce obedience" she added, as she stood
upon the stairs, struggling with herself and
striving for victory. From the nursery came
louder sounds of disorder. How weak the
mother felt. Yet in this very weakness was
strength.
81 must not stand idle here" she said, as
sharper cry of anguish smote on her ears, and
so she moved on quickly and opening the nur-
sery door stood revealed to her children Julia
had just raised her hand to strike Emily, who
stood confronting her with fiery face. Both
were little startled at their mothers sudden
appearance, and both expecting the storm
which usually came at such times, became to
assume the defiant, stubborn air with which
her Incorporate reproofs were always met
A few moments did Mrs Lyon stand look
ing at her children-grief, not anger, upon
her pale countenance. How still all became
What a look Of wonder came gradually into
the children's faces, as they glanced one to
the other. Something of shame was next Wis
ible And now the mother was conscious of a
new power over the young rebels of her house
hold.
Emily" said she, speaking mildly, and
yet with a touch Of sorrow in her voice she
could not subdue, 81 wish you would 20 up
into my room and sit with Mary while she
sleeps"
Without sighn Of opposition, or even Of re-
luctance, Emily went quietly from the nur.
sery, in obedience to her mothers desire.
This room is very much in disorder, Jr