The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1860-09-12
miscellaneous.
CUTTIN G. LITTLE ROB-
BEES HAIR.


he shorn of some of its superf1uous beau
ties. Even roses and geraniums must
be pruned sometimes, and these uncut
siIken rings, with the golden sunshine of
three summers entargled in their meshes.
must make the acquaintance of scissors at
last. Grandpapa says SO, and adds that
if it is not done shorty the low plump
boughs will make another Absalom of
Robbie, sometimes when the blue eyed
gaader is in pursuit. -
There is no denying that the curIs
needed trimming; they are too many
and too thick, and they make the little
head drop uneasily to one side like a
half blown moss rose bud under the
weight Of its own moss, and struggling
sometimes into the mouth and eyes
Yes they must be cut, but it seems such
a pity! Little curls that we have twin
ed around our fingers when all wet from
morning BATH; little curls that we have
played with while singing the evening
lullaby; little curls that our tears have
fallen upon when the baby eyes were
shut in sleep-ah only mothers know
how dear such curls arc to mothers
heart.
Here are the scissors Robbie must
sit very still, while his hair is being cut
Why, sir, why do you smile and look Mt
me so beamingly with your blue eyes?
How do you know that | am not GO
ing to cut off that saucy head of yours
with those great sharp. cruel scissors p
o, holy faith Of childhood. If we could
only trust our God as implicitly as babes
do their mothers! Except we become
ms little children, we shall not enter the
kingdom of heaven"
Be very still, now, while | comb out
these threads of shining floss, The
mother is the first barber TO her boy no
other fingers can perform tic sweet Office
so gently; but when fifteen or twenty
years are flown, rougher hands will
comb those locks, all bronzod by suns
and winds, and clustering above the brow
of manhood. The whiIe-aprone !, clean
handed barber will arrange them in the
latest style Of trimm ne, pomadlng, per-
fu-no; no, my boy will not be dan
dya those strong limbs and the sturdy
look of those eyes--no.
But to think the down of manhood
will gather on the cherry upper lip, and
on the chin and che TX ,dimpled as though
by the touch Of an angels finger. To
think that this round neck all alabaster
will be choked up with mans neck-tie,
and these hly-bud feet will wear heeled
boots, and. Fought I will not
think of it. 1 cannot realize that this
fair baby of mine-but three summers
out of Pardise and still smiling in his
sleep remembering what the angels said
there-shalI ever be so metamorphosed.
And yet the boys babyhood is rapidly
fleeting, and the severing of these ring
lets seems like cutting the golden thread
that links his infancy to his childhood
Oh, Robbie, / can call You baby but lit
tie longer. You blue eyed elf! you are
already rebelhng at being treat
ed as one. You had rather run, now,
after your painted wagon, than lie in
your rose curtained crib, and hear me
sing of the baby whose cradle was on the
tree-top, and whose nurse was the wind.
You will not wear your corals, because
grandpa says they are for babies not for
men; you had rather hunt hens, than
play bo-poop; and when | hold out my
arms to you, when you stand IN the deor-
way twirling your hat, you turn your
head on one side a half-tamed bird a
perch on ones finger, while your dancing
eyes seem to say, "Yon'll seen, you'll see,
Ill soon take flight" Pretty soon you'll
not believe in the wolf that talked to
Red Riding Hood, aud viii lose faith
in Santa Claus. eaaa ea-a
Icannot keep the bud in. its sheath; /
cannot stay the little bark that slips so
rapidly down the hurrying stream Of life.
Soon the rill will broaden into river,
and the realm of roses and sunny skies
will be passed. And the gold of these
ringlcts shall be dimmed by time, and
the roses perchancs drop from these pet
ty cheeks, and sorrow and sin, II may be,
cloud the clear, blue heaven of these in