The weekly Anglo-African., 1860-02-18
MR.. BLIFKIN'S BABY.

"
he took command in our house. Every
thing was subservient to him. The baby
was the balance wheel that regulated
everything. He regulated the tempera-
ture, he regulated the food, he regulated
the servants, he regulated me. For the
first six months of that precious existence
he had me up on an average six times a
night
''Mr. Blifkins," says my wife, "bring
that light here, do; the baby looks strange
ly; I'm so afraid it will have fit"
Of course the lamp was brought, and of
course the baby lay sucking his fist like a
little white bear as he was.
"Mr. Blifkins,' said my wife, II think |
feel draught of air; / wish you would get
up and see if the window is not open a
little, because baby might get sick"
Nothing was the matter with the win
dow, as l knew very WE'LL
"Mr. Blitkins," says my wife, just as
was going to sleep again, "that lamp, as
you have placed it, shines directly in baby's
eyes-strange that you have no more con-
sideration."
/ arranged the light and went to bed
again. Just as / was dropping to sleep
again,
"Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, "did you
think to buy that broma to-day for the
baby 7"
'My dear" said l, "will you do me the
injustice to believe that l could overlook
a matter so essential to the comfort of that
inestimable child :"
She apologized very handsomely, but
made her anxiety the scapegoat. / for
gave her, and without saying word more
to her l addressed myself to sleep.
"Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, shaking
me, "you must not snore so, you will wake
the baby"
"Just so-just So" said I, half asleep,
thinking was Solon Shingle.
"Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, "will you
get up and hand me the warm Cruel from
the nurse lamp for baby-the dear child
if it wasn't for his mother 1 don't know
what he would do. How can you sleep
so, Mr.. Blif fkins ?"
81 suspect, my DEAR" said l, ''that it is
because / am tired"
"Oh, it's very well for you men to talk
about being tired" said my wife; 81 don't
know what you would say if you had to
toll and drudge like poor woman with a
baby"
tried to soothe her by telling her she
had no patience at all, and got up for the
posset. Having aided in answering the
baby's requirements, stepped into bed
again, with the hope of sleeping.
"Mr. Blifkins," said she, in louder key,
l said nothing.
"Oh, DEAR" said the estimable woman,
in great apparent anguish, show can man,
who has arrived at the honor of live baby
of his own, sleep, when he don't know that
the dear creature will live till morning2"
remained silent, and, after a while,
deemed that Mrs. Blifkins had gone to
sleep, stretched my limbs for .repose.
How long l slept don't know, but l was
awakened by furious jab in the forehead
by some sharp instrument. started up
and Mrs. Blifkins was sitting up in the
bed adjusting some portion of the baby's
dress. She had, in state of semi-somno-
lence, mistaken my head for the pillow,
which she Gust >marily used for a nocturnal
pincushion. l protested against such treat
ment in somewhat round terms, pointing
to several perforations in my forehead.
She told me should willingly bear such
trifing things for the sake of the baby.
insisted upon it that | didn't think my
duty as parent to that young immortal
required the surrender of my forehead for
pincushion. This was one of my many
nights passed in this way. The truth was
that the baby was what every other mans
first baby is, an autocrat-absolute and un
limited. Such was the story of Blifkins
as he related it to us the other day. 1t is
a little exaggerated picture of almost every
mans experience.-Satur70y EOen'n9
Gazette.