The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1858-11-27
From the Independent.
WHAT IS TO BE DONE WITH OUR
CHARLEY.
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

there seems to be no place in heaven above,
or on earth beneath, exactly safe and suita
BILE, except the bed. While he is asleep then
our souls have rest-we know where he is
and what he is about, and sleep is gra
cious state; but then he wakes up bright and
early, and begins footing, pounding, ham
mering, singing, meddling, and asking ques-
tions: in short, overturning the peace OF
society generally for about thirteen hours
out of every twenty-four.
Everybody wants to know what to do with
him-everybody is quite sure that he can't
stav where they are. The cook can't have
him in the kitchen, where he infcsts the PAN
try to get -four to make paste for his kites,
or melt lard in the new sauce pan. II he is
sent up to the garret, you think for
Il while that YOU have settled the prob
lem, till you find that boundlcss field for
activity is Mt once opened, amid all the
packages, boxes, bags, barrels, and cast fl
rubbish there. Old letters, newspapers,
trunks of miscellaneous contents, are all
rumaged, and the reign of chaos and old
night is instituted. He sees endless capaci-
ties in all, and he is always hammering
something, or knocking something apart, or
saving, or planning, or drawing boxes or
barrels in all directions, to build cities or
Law railroad tracks, till everybody's head
aches quite down to the lower floor, and
everybody declares that Charley must be
kept out of the garret.
Then YOU send Charley to school, and hope
YOU are fairly rid of him for a few hours at
least. But he comes home noisier and more
breezey than ever, having learned of some
twenty other Charles every separate resource
for keeping up commotion that the super
abundcnt vitality of each can originate. lie
can dance Just like Jim Smith-he has
learned to smack his lips like Joe Brown
and Will Brigg has shown him how to NEW
like cat, and he enters the premises with a
new warwhoop, learned from Tom. Evans.
lie feels large and valorous; he has learned
that he is boy, and has general impress
sion that he is growing immensely strong
and knowing and despises more than ever
the conventlonalities Of parlor life: in fact,
he is more than ever an interruption in the
way Of decent folks who want to be
quiet.
1t is true, that entertaining persons will
devote themselves exclusively to him, reading
and telling stories, he may be kept quiet
but then this is discouraging work for he
swallows story as Rover does piece of
meat, and looks at you for another md an
other without the least consideration, SO
that resource is of short duration, and then
the old question comes back. What is to be
done with him?
But after all, Charley cannot be wholly
shirked, for he is an institution-a n solemn
and awful fact; and on the answer to the
question, What is to be done with him? de.
pends a future.
Many hard, morosc, bitter man has come
from Charley turned off and neglected ;
many parental heart ache has come from a
Charley left to run the streets, that mamma
and sisters might play on the piano and write
letters in peace. 1t is easy to get rid Of him;
there are fifty ways of doing that. He is a
spirit that can be promptly laid, but if not
laid arigh: will come back, by-and-by, a
strong man armed, when you cannot send
him off at pleasure.
Mamma and sisters had better pay lit
tie tax to Charley now, than terrible one
by and-by. There is something significant
in the old phrase, which our Scriptures rem
der us familiar, MAN child-a MAN child.
There you have the word that should make
YOU think more than twice before you an
swer the question: What will We do with
Charley
For to-day he is at our feet; to- day you
can make him laugh, you can make him cry,
you can persuade, coax, and turn him to
your pleasure; you can make his eyes fill
and his bosom swell with recitals of good
and noble deeds, in short, can mould him if
you will take the trouble.
But look ahead some years, when that lit
tie voice shall ring in deep bass tones i;
when that little foot shall have man.
weight and tramp; when rough beard shall
cover that little round chin, and the wilful
strength of manhood fill out that little form.
Then you will give worlds for the KEY to his
heart, to be able to turn and guide him at
your will; but if you will lose that key now
he is little, YOU may search for it carefully,
with tears, some other day, but never find
it.
Old housekeepcrs have proverb, that
one hour lost in the morning is never found
all day. 1t has significance in this case.
One thing is to be noticed about Charley.
that, rude, and busy, and noisy, as he is,
and irksome as carpet rules and parlor ways
are to him, he is still a social little crea-
ture, and wants to be where all the rest of
family are. A room every so we'll adapted
for play, cannot charm him at the hour when
the family is in reunion; he hears the voices
in the parlor, and his play room seems desc
late. y
1t may be warmed by furnace and light
ed with gas, but it is human warmth and
light he shivers for; he yearns for the talk
of the whole family, which he so imperfect
ly comprehends and he longs to take his
down and play by you. and is
necessarily promising that Of the fifty i'm
proper things which he is liable to do in the
parlor, he will not commit one if you let him
him stay there.
This instinct of the little one is Natures
warning plea-God's admonition. O, how
many mother who has neglected. it because
it was irksome to have the child about; has
lopyed at twenty -6ye TO keen her son by her