The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-05-19
For the National Err
. v n M n U ".

We used to have fancy for romantic stories
of good little boys and girls, born of very hum
bic parentage, who had bravely broken from
the tolls of fortune and achieved some kind of
greatness We know of many like instances,
which, tastefully handled, might be woven into
attractive tales hut somehow all our fancies,
and all our abilities, in that line, have left us
under the magic influence of Marion's presence.
The dear creature keeps making little pic
lures for us, and is filling our heart full of tender
images, sometimes we fear against day of trial.
When we are going out for a drive, for instance,
no sooner does she perceive the usual hustle.
than she runs to the wardrobe door, and does it
chance to be open, back she totters with cloak,
cap, and all the garments she can lay her hands
upon, shouting brody, brody," at the top of
her voice. We take her sometimes and then
she dances and capers so for JOY, we can hardly
tie her cap-more often, though, we leave her
behind; when we are always sure, on our re-
turn, to see brown face, no bigger than a
coffee saucer, pressed closely against one par
ticuar pane in the kitchen window. We al
ways expect that little face, with its aattened
nose, and double row of pearls and were
Marion to die to-day, we should always see it
there.
We are sorry to say that our Marion does not
grow in favor as she grows in stature. Twenty
times day she rushes up to the stove, snatchss
off the hearth, aipgs handsful of ashes over the
carpet; and, when her mamma runs to the res
cue, she draws herself up, with Draw air, and
somehow manages to plant her back or elbow
against the forbidden piece of furniture. Moth
ing daunted, and guided by ancient preeept-
we whip her plump hands, when, ten to one, the
moment we let them go, up they come, all be-
grimmed with smut into our face and eyes,
leaving behind them two black stripes, and
perhaps twice as many nail prints, We whip
them again in good earnest. She clinches
them together, and her fists, round as apples,
grow red under the blows. We strike our own
hand now and then, to see if we can really be
hurting her, for our young soldier seldom cries
She shuts her lips close, breathes Short and
looks wicked and wilful. We give over at last,
through excusable tenderness, full conaciops
that Marion is yet to be subdued.
Moreover, no sooner has the fire gone ont,
than she plants herself against the stove, and
ruhs her back most vigorously, spelling thereby
all her pretty delaine frocks, and keeping her
nurse changing her pnafore every hour in the
day.
7 We find that she has become a terror TO her
numerous aunts and female cousins demolish-
ing their collars and head-dresses iu a twink
ling scattering hairpins and impromptu locks
of hair, much to their discontinue We've
stripped our table and what-not of all superhu.
GUS ornaments, carried out all movable chairs,
piled our books Of engravings on a stand be-
hind the sofa, and given the damsel full liberty.
In consequence, all the old ladies round, indeed
every one who hasn't been molested by her,
think her mamma the worst Of disciplinarians,
the more because she has trick of sailing un-
der false colors, for an hour or two, when stran-
gers are present. But never man, woman, or
child, spent more than half a day in her pres
ence, who didn't divide their sYmpathies equal
ly between mother and child. ....,.
Meanwhile we are secretly pleased, for We
feel our hold on the child grow stronger with
each manifestation Of the old Adam Within her,
We know her sturdy heart was made for
lifework and that when time shall have deyel-
oped her form into womanhood, all this Unborn
energy, grown with her growth, and strengthened
with her strength, will, if rightly trained, only
give force and direction TO noble purpose. We
place her thick, brown, dimpled hand beside
one we used to fondle, but never whipped, and
feel doubly sure that Marion is. Of earth earthly.
We believe in children too good to live
we impute not to parental fondness the asser.
ton that one has lain away a child ripe for