The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1870-03-03
YOUTHS DEPARTMENT
TIE FACES WE MAKE.
BY ROSELLA RICE.

| day last week l went to visit some DOOR
| lonely little boys and girls whose mother
was dead, and who had nobody to take
care of them but their old grandmother
| feel so sorry for such desolated house
holds that like to visit them and say
something to comfort and help the moth
erless ones.
1t is twenty eight years since my own
mother died, and we, five little crying
children, were left, oh so lonely, that even
now | never think of it without shedding
| tears
| l remember how in those still summer
nights we would cuddle together out on
the grass in the farthest corner of the
dOOryard, all closely together as a brood
of chickens, and the poor little heads
would lie in my lap, and we would look up
at the stars and talk of our mother, and
creep closer together and then the dear
baby would reach his chubby hands
heavenward and cry, Z" oh, mamma, mann
ma !" so piteOusly that our hearts could
not contain their grief, and We would all
cry aloud, calling on that beloved name
This must be the reason why l so love
and sympathize with motherless children
said to those little ones whom I visit
ed lately, "Have you a picture of your
mother? would like to see it, if you
have"
The oldest girl said they had not-that
they always moo nj TO have one taken some
time when the re at town, but they
neglected it, and it never was done.
Why, yes, sis, we have mas picture"
said the child next older than the baby /;
and he jumped off my knee and ran to a
! closet, and tumbled about among some old
papers and brought out ragged old geog
rsphy whirled the leaves with great
alacrity, and holding it up as high as his
head, came to me in triumph, saying
"There's our mas picturc-that looks
'Zactly like our ma nowi"
"Oh now, Teddy, it don't look bit like
| her." said the Oldest sister, blushing and
looking ashamed and grieved. | gave her
glance sideways as much as to say, "Of
course it don't, but then let the little fell
low have it his own way-its trifling
matter"
Now simple sweet little child is not to
be deceived in anything of this kind. !
knew there must be some resemblance to
his mother in that picture, or he would not
have seen it so plainly.
Oh, the picture was such an ugly one
the mouth was drawn down at the corners;
and you know what true tale that tells
of dissatisfied, fretful, ult-fnding dis
position. Inever saw that kind of mouth
belonging to a healthy, happy, hearty,
cOntented person.
A handkerchief was bound about the
jaws as if for tOothache, and the shoulders
we're stopped, and the whole attitude was
everything but pleasant and agreeable
The dark brows were drawn down and
were scOwling and repulsiye
This little incident made me very sad
indeed. talked to the children and told
them how to be good and that they must
love and help and care for one another,
and not tempt each other to anger-that
if one was angry they must speak only the
soft answer that "turneth away wrath"
and by so doing they could help each other
to be good. They listened attentiyely, and
said, ave WILL" and the three smaller
ones held each othef's hands, and looked
up into my face as though they were treas
uring up every word that fell from my
lips.
My heart yearned over those lone little
dears
On inquiry, l learned that their mother
had been a fretful, scolding woman, i'm
patiently and easily excited to anger, and
that the picture in the old geography was
not at all unlike her, the ili-natured face be-
ing the true index to her character. Oh
what legacy to leave ones children was
the memory of a scolding, whining, cross
mother Our faces are TO our souls what
the index page is to the book.
Don't let us make them ugly. We
should not allow ourselves to be angry,
and our faces to scowl, and our brows to
draw down, because if we indulge in evil
l. 1xrx
smile, and what honeyed words fall from
our lips, the truth is too plainly written in
our faces to deceive any one very long at
time. 1t is carved therein every feature
by cbisel that is welded by Hand that
never errs or makes mistakes
One time | went with lady to have
her little boys picture taken. He was
handsome child, had soft blue eyes, fine
fresh complexion, long curly hair, and he
was dressed in a new velvet suit with
dainty rutfies about his neck, and bosom,
and wrists, and we thought his picture
would be one of the finest ever taken.
His little dog went with us, and Eddie
said Princes picture should be taken sit
ting on his lap.
His mother said, "We'll see about it,
dearie :" and all the time she meant that
no dogs picture should go with her boys,
but she had not the decision of character
to tell him So After Eddie was all fixed
nicely, with one little fat leg doubled up
in very natural childish posture, and his
hands fixed and little ringlets made 20 fall
prettiy at one side of his face and On his
forehead, the artist said, "Now he Is all
ready. | think this will ma ke a fine pic
ture."
"I want my dog" called out Eddie.
"Oh no. dear the picture is to send TO
Chicago to papa, and well not have yours
and Princes taken together. Let Princy
be taken by himself" said the silly
mother, kissing him.
"No, will have my dog, now see if L
DON'T" and he Strengthened both legs out
as stiffy as sticks, and tangled his curls,
and crumpled his ruffles, and changed into
one of the ugliest looking little boys |
ever did see.
"You shall not have your dog" SAID
his mother, angrily, shaking him all over.
"Iwill, you ugly old thing, YOU" said
he, stamping furiously. Then came dis
graceful fight, and Eddie's fists were made
very round and solid, and he pounded his
mother and pulled the ties of her new hat,
and kicked, and behaved badly.
lam sorry to say it, but the weak woman
yielded, and said, ell, rather than not
have the picture at all, | guess il may be
taken With the dog on his zap"
"Well, there now, ha ha" said the
spoiled boy, as he drew long, restful
breath of triumph, and looked at the art
ist, and then at myself and at his mother,
who sat painting and smoothing her ruff
fled plumage.
Really, | did feel as though the little
termagant deserved TO be thrown from the
window, which was three stories high.
So the dog was curled down in his lap,
and his leg was tucked up again, and the
ringlets fixed, and he was coaxed to smile,
and the farce was gone through with; but
to me ali his beauty ard sweetness and
innocence were gone forever. He was no
more pretty child or good little boy,
and was rather glad, too, when l looked
on the picture, that that grand old artist,
tho Snn could not be wheedled or f1atter-