Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1859-05-28
From the Home Journal. !
MOTHER MADE IT."

MOTHER MADE IT."
A few weeks since, while in one Of the beau
tiful inland cities of Wisconsin, an incident oc-
Cured which awakened in my mind train of
reflections which possibly may be written and
read with advantage.
was hurrying along the street, when my at
tention was arrested by the appearance of little
boy on the side of the pavement, selling candy.
He was not really beautiful, nor was he decided
~ the reverse. His age was about nine years;
his clothes were old and faded, but well patched
His candy was spread upon course, white cotton
cloth. neatly stretched over what had been iap-
AIMED server He was surrounded by small
group of boys, evidently belonging to different
grades of society.
AS came nearly yopposite him. the oft-repeated
interlude, Candy, sir?" fell upon my ears, and
although opposed to the excessive use of candy,
| stepped aside to patronize the light-haired.
pale, frecked, homespun little representative of
trade. | purchased of him, partly for his en-
couragement, but with particular reference to
the friendship Of the little folks of the family
with which was temporary guest.
The candy was as white as the clotli beneath
It, being free from the poisonous coloring in
gradients so extensively used in the confection-
AIRY art. | tasted it, and found it delicately
favored and very nice.
"My hoy" said |, 'your candy is very good;
let me have a little more"
Immediately saw that my remark had awak-
ened i'll his young heart emotions which, in them
selves, were quite abstrac. from the candy trade.
His countenance beamed with JOY as he raised his
large eyes, sparkling with delight, and observed
in reply:
at is good, isn't it? Nother'n,ade it,"
In these few words was embodied an uncon-
scious exhibition of character. Here was a spon..
taneous outburst of filial affection.
= L.
the spirit of the language carried my mind back
through life more than thirty years, and at r-
regular intervals babe me pause and apply the
sentiment to some item connected with my own
history.
Before making the application, however,
wish TO disabuse myself of the charge, which
such application may incur, of appropriating to
myself the nobility of character which have
above attributed to the candy boy. Holding
myself exempt from this arrogance, would
simply say, am not ashamed of the profession
of my affection FOR my parents and hope nav
not outlive that profession.
When was little boy, at school, and carried
my dinner in a satchel made of calico, some of
my schoolmates carried theirs in fashionable
willow baskets, and sometimes teased me be-
cause carried mine in "poke." felt vexed,
but reconciled myself with the recollection that.
If did carry calico poke. "mother made IT,"
In less than twenty five years after that time,
one OF these same schooImates was happy to
avail himself OF the privilege of sending his
children to my school to receive gratutous in
struction, profered in view of his extreme pow
erty. His children came to school without any
dim er. They had no nice willow basket-they
needed no calico spoke"
William Foster ruled his copy book with a
pencil set in fine silver case. He said he
would not carry such great ugly club of pen
Gil as mine. compared the pencils. His was
the handsomest, but no better than mine. |
had good lead pencil, hammered out of piece
of led. "Motier made IT, and was satisfied
with it. After we grew up to be men, William
Foster came to me to get me to calculate inter-
est on small note, at six per cent, per annum;
he carried pencil worth four cents. had no
gum-elastic ball; but had one made of wolen
ravellings and covered with leather "Mother
made IT,"
When in my twenty-second year. left home
to attend school in L., there were in the school
soie hts. J""''s '''~" ,i'o SUNS vi wvuiruy puI-
ents. There We're others whose good sense was
not annihilated by pecuniary advantages. Of
the former class was one John Stokes who wore
very fine broadcloth. My best coat was not so
fine, the cloth cost two dollars and fifty cents
yard; my mother had tiaded tow check of her
own manufacture for it, while | was working to
assist my father in raising his family; she paid
fifty cents for getting the garment out, and made
it herself. John Stokes came one day to my
desk, held out his arm, compared his coatsleeve
with mine, and inquired, ironically, where got
such fine coat. proudly told him, "Mother
made IL" He feigned great surprise, and sar-
castically observed he had mistaken it for i'm
ported goods; he wished he could get such fine
| clothes, and wondered if mother would get him
up fine coat.
| A short time afterward, while in a tailor shop
one morning with fellow student, John Stokes
fine coat was brought in by lad, with instruc-
tions to scour and press it He was not in his
class that day; he bad been seen the previous
night on Water street, rolling in the mud, drunk
as Bacchus. He left the school in disgrace. He
now lies in drunkard's grave.
boarded myself while attending school here
l walked nine miles home at the close of each
week, aud returned on Monday morning with my
loaf Of bread under my arm. 1t would become
stale before Friday evening, but l always rel
ished it when ! recollected that "INother made
it,"
am now so far advanced in life that nv
friends begin to call me old. But have not lived
long enough TO learn why l should not still re-
spect my mother and regard her afectionately.
She is quite sdva~ ced in years, and has nearly
lost her sight. She sits within few feet of me,
sewing up a rent in my linen coat while write
this. She knows not what am writing. She
has been widow eight years, and is still toll
ing for the welfare of her children. She has
never studied grammar, nor philosophy, nor
music These things were seldom taught in her
younger days. But she knows the value, ard
has toiled hard many day to purchase books
for her children, and support them at school.
And shall now ourl the hip of scorn, or blush
in company, TO hear her substitute verb of
unity for one of plurality, or pronounce word
twenty years behind the Websteian era? Never
no never! The old dilapidated grammar in my
library might testify against her stylei but its
testimony would be infinitely more terrible
against my ingratitude. recollect well when
she rode seven miles, one cold winters day. to
sell produce and purch Sc that book for me,
when was a little boy. 1t trequired sacrifice,
but MOTHER MADE 1T.
He who can do all he wishes rarely does what