The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1870-09-15


Just married! Destined to linger il
clover, new mown hay, and such herb
age, from nine to twelve months.
Some blask, rascally, stormy night
about the close of the above epoch, yo,
are turned out in the streets, all ponds
and mill races, or amid snow eigh:cer
inches deep, and drifting along like bla
zes, and told to run for the doctor.
When you get home little red-fan
nelled looking thing, about the size of 6
big merino potato, undoubtedly awaits
you.
| They will call it a baby. Packed ul
with it. you will find the first realsqualls
of married life-you can bet high on
that
Paregoric, soothing syrup, and catnip
tea, and long flannel, and diaper stuff,
and baby collie, and more squall- they
will come along, too; in fact, will be-
come as much at home in the house as
dinner.
One ofthese days, in
"fhe wee sma hours ayant the twal'
yon turn out again. This time you are
found barefoot, distractedly rocking
that baby back and forth, and bobbing
it up and down in a cane seat chair; IA
shiverirg, icy, disconsolate sense of
dampness all over you; seat hard, only
cotton shirt, or such a matter, nearer
than the bed to keep you warm, roaring
musically as wild bull in a slaughter
yard,
owe are coming, Father Abraham,
Three hundred thousand more"
Baby all the time yelling like mad
with pain, while Mary Ann, up to her
nose under warm bed clothes, to help
out every now and then impatiently
puts in, just at tho wrong time, "trot
hi,a, fastarn
But no. The little innocent iS tough
er than an india ruhhor o.r spring.
Just as you are giving out-concluding
you must freeZe-that there will certain
ly be funeral in the house inside of
,hirty-si hours, baby willis from sheer
and then, with teeth chat
tering like Mccormick reaper, you
crawl in again, and try for warmth and
sleep.
Gradually you glide away into tan
g!ed maze of cherry lips, ice, steam
whistle voiced babies, dimpled cheeks,
more ice, May flowers, skating weather,
jockey club, sleigh rides,
immense as the old bell at
Moscow, Indian ambuscades, chignons
as big as door mats, awful Grecian bends
angels, snow storms, ana forty other
chee rful "reminiscences.
\ snort, a thrash, wild throwing
upward Of little arms and legs, and then,
keen and shrill, comes that terrible
" "Ah-wah! all wah ~ / guess you wake
up, don't you?
"Get the paregoric and a teaspoon,
quick" says Mary Ann, in staccato
voice.
In just three eighths of second, you
are a Grecian bend yourself ont there in
the cold, dropping paregoric in q tea
spoon.
Hurry! Oh, no; circumstances are
not such as to make you hurry in the
least
Gracious little Peter, he is describing
diabolcal curves with all the arms and
legs he's got, and screaming 100 pounds
to the square inch, and Mary Ann, she |
is rearing around there in tie bed, max
ing rocking chair of her back, and
yelling "by by" like wild Comanche
Oh the war path.
Nice, amt il?
And then to think that, as years roll
on, there has to be more and more yet
of just such work.
Then come the washing days, too, and
the spring ccauings and movings-when
your papers and books and custard pies,
and carpets, and plug hats, and molas-
pancake batter, all get stirred up to-
gether; when Mary Ann, dress tucked
up, handkerchief around her head,
broom in one hand, mop in the other,
hunting up spiders webs, and dirt, and
and such things, while
Bridget, the inevitable Bridget, slop-
ping soap -snls all over everything,
brings up the rear.
Then there is that motler-in law of
yours, and the six or eight female cous-
ins. They have just come over to visit
q bit, and each one has brought all her
trunks and band boxes along. That,
too, when you coald so easily have spar
ed all but the mother law.
And so I might run on and on. These
things are thicker in such places than
little toads on a country road after
shower. You can't dodge them.
They come with married life just rs sure
as death and taxes