The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1862-12-05

feel that yours is an answering look to
that newborn intelligence-then, / say,
will you experience sensation which is
not "of the earth earthly" but belongs to
the correspondence of higher and
holier sphere.
Iwish to gossip little with you con-
cerning children. You are full grown
man now, my friend, yet you were once a
boy; and am quite certain that you will
feel interested in q few incidents which
ana going to relate, in illustration of my
theme; incidents which / hope you will
Judge to be not unfruitful of mOnitory les
sons to children of larger growth than
mere girls and boys.
Don't you think that we parents, some
times, in moments of annoyance, through
pressure of business or other circumstan-
ces, forbid that which was but innocent
and reasonable, and perfectly natural to
be asked for? And do not the best of
parents frequently multiply prohibitions
until obedience to them becomes impossi-
BILE?
Excuse me; but all your readers have
been children; many of them are happy
mothers; many more that are not will be
in Gods good time and cannot but be-
lieve that many who shall peruse these
sentences will find something in them
which they will remember hereafter.
Grown people should have more faithin,
and more appreciation OF, the statements
and feelings of children. When I read,
some months since, in telegraphic dis
patch to one of our morning journals, from
Baltimore, if / remember rightly, of a
mother who, in Furnishing little boy for
telling a lie (Which, after all, it subse-
quently transpired that he did not tell, hit
him with slight switch over his temple
and killed him instantly-a mere accident,
of course, but yet dreadful casualty,
which drove reason from the throne of the
unhappy mother-when / read this,
thought of what had occurred in my own
sanctum only week or two before; and
the lesson which l received was a good
one, and will remain with me forever.
My little boy, a dark-eyed, ingenious
and frank-hearted child as ever breathed
though perhaps i say it who ought not
to say it t"-still, do say it--had been
playing about my table, on leaving which
for moment, I found, on my return, that
my long porcupine-quill-handled pen was
gone. I asked the little fellow what he
had done with it. He answered at once
that he had not seen it. After renewed
search for it, charged him, in the face of
his declaration, with having taken and mis-
laid or lost it. He looked me earnestly in
the face and said:
ttNO. didn't take it, father
/ then took him upon my lap; enlarged
upon the Nervousness of telling an untruth;
told him that l did not care so much about
the pen; and, in short, by the manner in
which reasoned with him, almost offered
him reward for the confessional reward,
be it understood Ga dear one to him), Of
standing firm in his fathers love and re-
gard. The tears had welled on to his eyes,
and he seemed about to ''tell me the whole
TRUTH" when my eye caught the end of
the pen protruding from the portfolio,
where l myself had placed it, in returning
a sheet of manuscript to one Of the COM
partments. All this may seem mere
trifle to you-and perhaps it is: yet shall
remember it for long time.
But desire to narrate to you now
circumstance which happened in the family
of friend and correspondent of minefn the
city of Boston, some ten years ago, the
history of which will commend itself to
the heart of every father and mother who
has any sympathy with you, or affection
for, their children. was convinced of
this when opened the letter from L. II.
B., which announced it, and in the
detail of the event which was subsequently
furnished me.
A few weeks before he wrote he had bu-
ried his eldest son, a fine, manly little fel-
low, of some eight years of age, who had
never, he said, known days illness until
that which finally removed him hence to
be no more. His death occurred under
circumstances which were peculiarly pain
full to his parents. A young brother, q
delicate, sickly child from its birth, the next
in age to him, had been down for nearly a
fortnight with an epidemic fever. In con-
sequence of the nature of the disease, eve
ry precaution had been adopted that pru-
dence suggested to guard the other mem.
bers of the family against it. But of this
one, the fathers eldest, he said he had lit
tie to fear, so rugged was he and so gen
orally healthy. Still, however, he kept q
vigilant eye upon him, and especially for
bade his going into the pools and docks
near his school, which was his custom some-
times to visit; for he was but boy, and
"boys will be boys" and we ought more
frequently to think that it is their nature
to be. Of all unnatural things, reproach
almost to childish frankness and innocence,
save me from ''boy mani" But to the
story. 10 9g.7ad3 ed9 9lz4aI30 0s 12E ~
: slOne evening this unhappy father came
home, wearied with long days hard la
Dor, and vexed at some little disappoint-
ments which had soured his naturally kind
disposition, fand rendered him peculiarly
susceptible to the smallest annoyance
While be was sitting by the fire, in this