The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1869-06-05

eB5-" By the Rev. Mr.. -, S. w. B. to
c. G., only daughter, etc. "No cards.
| Why didn't it say no baby? l have one of
those interesting animals at my house. 1t
came when it rained, dark as pitch, and
my umbrella at the store and no cars run
ming. The doctor lived five miles due west,
and the nurse six miles due east, and when
| got home to the bosom of my family the
condensed milkman was at the next door.
1t is a funny chip, that baby; Solferino
color, and the length of Bologna sausage.
| Cross? guess not. I'm, UNI; it COM
menced to chase me down the pathway of
life just when muslin, linen, and white
flannel were the highest they had been since
Adam built house for EYES chickens
Doctor charged two dollars a squint, four
dollars a grunt; and, on account of the
scarcity of rain in the country, take what's
left in 4 mans pocket, no discount for cash,
and send bill for balance, January 1st. A
poor little thing is that baby; speck of
rose like wart; head as bald as squash;
and no place to hitch waterfall; mouth
just suited to come gumgame and chew
milk. Oh, crackee, you should hear her
sing. I've bumped it, stuffed my fur cap
down its throat, given it the smoothing
iron to play with, but that little red lump
that looks as if it couldn't hold blood
enough to keep musketo from fainting,
! persists in yelling like thunder. 1t shows
| 70 ;fc or o,l tI,o 9th
day they dropped down its throat, and all
that prevented from going clear through,
was crook of its elbows. 1t stopped its
music for one and half minutes. 1t is
pleasant thing to have baby in the house
one of your bellyache kind. Think of
the pleasures of father in dishabille,
trembling in the midnight hour, with it's
feet upon square yard of oil-cloth, drop
ping paragoric into tin spoon by the
moonlight: somebody humping on the
door, wife of your BOSOM hurry, and the
baby yelling till the fresco drops from the
ceiling. It's nice time tothink of dress coats,
pants, ties and white kids. Shades of de-
parted cocktails what comfort, what pic
ture of an artist in plaster paris. Its
mother says the darling is troubled with
wind on the stomach; it beats all the wind
instruments have ever heard. have got
to get up in the cold while the milk warns;
it uses the bottle. I have cradle with a
miraculous representation of soothing
syrup bottle on the dash board. l tried to
stop its breath the other night, but it was
no go; l rocked it SO hard 1 missed the
stays, and sent it slap clear across the
room, upsetting a jar of preserves. 1t
didn't make any noise then, oh, no! Its
mother says wait till it gets bleached, (its
been vaccinated,) and big enough to crawl
around and feed on pins? Yes, am going
to wait, Won't it be delightful? John,
run for the doctor, sis has fallen in the slop
pail, and is checking with potato skin;
sis has fell down stairs; sis has swallowed
the tack hammer; shows signs of the
mumps, measles, Group, whooping cough,
smallpox, cholic, dysentery, cholera in
fantum, or some other darn thing to let the
doctor take away all the money laid away
for my winters corn beef, and all this
comes of my shampooding and curling my
hair, wearing nice clothes, looking hand
some, going counting, and making a wo-
man fall in love with and marry me-