The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1858-03-25
FOR the Nauon8l Era.
A DAY IN THE NURSERY.

OF Lake Luzern.
For the National Era.
A DAY IN THE NURSERY.
thought would write q gloriication letts,
to my Cousin 'Tilda. She had not heard the
news, poor thing, and my daughter was siz
weeks old.
hate to. make people envious bat / knew
that, when got at it, / could not help desert
bling this young niracle-a triAe superior,
even, to her brothers, though they are miracu.
lous enough in their way. How 'Tilda will
wish she could exchange that dry, silent room
in the Seminary, where the pictures never come
down from the walls, and the talk is all in books,
for my living nursery-this one day, at least
when she knows all there is in it. Its earlier
pets have been on the limits, of late and am
getting melancholy because the motherly wing
can hardly stretch over the whole brood at
once. But the first cluck will bring them hur-
rying back and to-day, bleak out of doors,
busy down stairs, recommends beginning.
When the new temptation is fairly tucked in
her crib for the morning nap, can tell 'Tilda
all about it. How, day by day, can see the
beauties round and ripen, under minutest
touches from the Artist Invisible; how the
clear eyes look up in nay face, ever more stead
fast and questioning, and the delicate lips are
shaped into less ambiguous smiles; how the
singed look of brows and lashes is changing to
dainty fringes, and lily-white grows out of the
l0hafor tspfu havv oil ha N~f L.
clients is supposed to sit upon her broad fore
head-and as for her nose, why, Grandma is
sure she will grow to that how her skin is soft
as velvet, and thin as tissue-paper, with the
close netting of many.tinted veins staining
through it, as the first lines of picture through
its gsusey protection.
But first must just step into the kitchen,
and remind myself of general affairs, which
have been, so to speak, let ont to an husband
man, to the full limit of reasonable term. Is
not there another housekeeper somewhere who
knows what amount of thickening may be
stirred into kitchen, under the following spe-
ci6cations2
A short, gray, snowy, mid winter morning
huge pile of breakfast dishes, poking their
unwashed faces into the middle of it-turkey
just come, frozen stif-a melancholy stretch of
dispirited- looking garments, having refused to
do anything but freeze out of doors, sharing
the clothes-frames with their hot-pressed neigh.
ironing on one sIue-secUuQ UutCncss' viufu a
ting between the breakfast-dishes on the other,
and Master Two-year-old, who is under al the
feet and on all the tables, snatching knives and
baked apples, and making himself generally
promiscuous. -Four yesrold, making repetitions
of himeelf at the several doors, and kept out at
the point of the motherly fore6nger-and your
humble servant, hitching up her shawl, and
running over everybody, trying to help, but
being warned off, at every point, by the watch
full mother, who has obligingly taken up q post
of assistance among the cups, becomes despe-
rate, draws of her small forces, end beats q re.
treat TO the nursery, where books and work and
healthful play shall make the day beautiful to
little folks, and interesting to all corners.
Four.year-old has walked into boots-not by
any insane provision made by his family, but
actually stealing the march upon us, in q pair
of strays left by guest-and the fascinating
stampers are, withal, too protective to be fully
prohibited. We groan, and resign ourselves.
Number Two is usually known as the best
child in the world, by way of apology for his
tendency to squeals, and to mischief in its most
rapid development.
Baby is calling loudly upon mamma, from
among the blankets. A general rush for the
crib; boys rabid to kiss little sister, to make
acquaintance with the soft spot in her head, to
feel her soft fingers and, OIL to see her Gun.
ming little feet. " Isn't she sweet, mamma?
Will she be little girl pretty soon, and have
cups and saucers? She is getting o larger
head, and fink her forehead is growing out
of baby"
Oh, Frank, what are you doing2 Number
Two, holding tin horse within two inches of
the baby's eyes, and pushing her head forward,
to "ook at it'll" Tended of, he turns to the
work.basket, dives for the knitting.needles, pulls
out two with an innocent jerk, and widens the
breach in piece Of imperative mending, lying
IN wait for the first moment of possibility.
Catching it, with suitable reprimand, and rising
to put it out of his reach, mamma narrowly
escapes making jelly of him when she sits
down again, for his next goal is her rocking.
they have not played horse for half an hour,
and beg for the unoccupied territory on mann
mas knees, "just once, for . pony;" which
point of privilege being speedily worn out, they
proceed to make horses of all the chairs. "That
won't do" 80 they are allowed to retreat under
the bed, and, for peace sake" to play out the
soldering spirit upon which q vast amount of
moral discussion has been wasted. While the
banging goes on in the side scene, sit secure,
with the wee thing on my lap, pursuing the
mending, till an ominous lull makes me look up,
and watch! Young America il making him.
self coffin of the Stats from the bedstead, and
intended as sequence to the battle drama.
Horrible children They must be talked to;
and the bed must be made. But what shall We
do with the baby7 Franks moral sense will
never restrain him from running chair straight
up to the crib, to "'ook at her, With both hands.
Freddie must show him pictures. There, tie
Stats are dropping out again. Why, the rogue
thinks the fun is good twice over. Pictures 10
bride. Twoyear-old only conference.-the to
reason, and authority reluctant to extreme
measures, while little Miss is making such loud
objection to lying there. Shall We resort to
ginger cakes? No; all corrupt mothers have
done that since the earliest story. books. Still,
the children may be hungry; it must be lunsh.
eon-time, and, really, this does seem an extreme
case.
Order being restored-all but the crumbsH
they promise to be very quiet, and, as Freddie
says, "let sister grow" while read to them
Unhappily, they are not on the same round of
the ladder to learning, and the different bosks
thrust before my eyes, with "wead vat" ind
" please read e resi-, mamma" rather mix up
the most distressing stage of q Group sctue,
with the rub-adub Of q pictured drummer.
Dear Grandmammas, snapped off in their tlk
to good boys, are made to ride little ponhs !;
and Just as the scapegrace of the story il re-
| turning to virtue, with burst of tears, ami .
total reformation-"No wi Frank has tommy
| prstsiest picture"-and total depravity braks
out on both sides for the space Of ten mintes.
Books are abandoned, brothers rsconcied,
and Boots and Roley-poiey enjoy themselvei al
over the reom, in q promiscuous tumble snd