The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1864-12-10
The IA rl,elOr and the Baby.

"What shall I do % and the old bachelor
stamped about the sitting room in a perfect
rage of doubt, looking first at the mapping
baby in the little willow cradle, and then at
the busy French clock on the mantle-shelf
GAS sure as my name is Joseph Phelps,
that little, twofsted, large lunged nephew
of mine is about waking and it wants one
whole hour of the time which its mother APP
pointed for her return. Whew! | actually
sweat thinking about it. How can | treat it
to sugar what do you-call EN- $, or hold it,
or trot it, or do anything with it? %
At this juncture a faint wall from the baby
receptacle brought bachelor Phelps to his
| taps. With an energy and alacrity that
would have become husband and baby ten
der, he commenced rocking the cradle, send
ing the indignant baby into perfect tremor
of kicks and squalls. Backwards and for
wards, from one side to the other, the round
red face rolled, the infant fists were clenched
with force that purpled them, while from
the white, plump throat, came q cry that set
the bachelor wild with fear
Again Joe looked at the clock.
"What in the deuce can | do % he ex-
claimed, viewing woefully the little infamcd
face before him.
He sat down in a big chair before the ba-
by, spread double cradle quilt over his
knees, and with a look of terror upon his
face, proceeded to take the baby into his
lap, just as very neat old lady would pick
up handkerchief with his thumbs and fin
gers. a fresh yell from the rosy mouth of
the baby was the only expression of thanks,
as he commenced the never out of. fashion
baby-trot.
at must be that something is prcking
him. Shoe! SHOOT said Joe, commencing
search for the agravating pin that.was driv-
ing the child into such rage. But no pin
was to be found, and he made an attempt to
turn the baby over, but oh the clumsness
of his fngcrs-tho little elflike form fell out
Of his lap to the floor, sending out d cry that
was louder, clearer, deadlier than before
lord save me, I've broken its neck -
and in the agony of despair tried. to quiet
him. A thought struck Joe. He saw bas-
cue lying against the wall of the adjoining
bedroom, and, with smile of delight upon
lis countenance, he went for it. Sure
enough, there it was, stuffing, bodice, and
all! IA real monument Of female ingenuity
He pinned it over his coat, and fastened the
sleeves behind him. He took the baby and
lid its head against the false breastwork.
'Shades of southern plantations and cot
ton factories - exclaimed Joe, and the baby
rooted its nose Into it about mile, then
commenced singing:
"Women ac all a leeting show,
| For mn's deuson given
When filed with bran and stuffed with tow
| They Dol; quite"
A tap uIon the door stopped Joe in the
midst Of lis suggestive song, and before he
had time to disaray himself, the door was
opened, md a laughing pair of eyes pcered
in uponhim.
"Yolr sister is not at home, IS shc?" CHR
ruppedthc visitor.
az ma am" stammered Joe, growing
very ed in the face; "and have turned
nurs.'
Mss Hays laughed, and offered to relieve
him of his charge, which he willingly con-
serted to, sitting near by, the while, intently
: watching her She managed baby to a
clarm without the hasuuo and Joe v.,s
Gptivated
Joseph Phelps married Fanny Hays-up,
'Cn my word he did