The Van Buren press., 1871-08-08
MISCELLANY.
The Family-Home Scene.
by T. 8. ARTHUR.

"I'll not live in this way!" exclaimed
Mrs. Lyon, passionately. such disor-
ders, wrangllng, and irregularity rob me
Of peace, and make the house bedlam,
instead Of a. quiet Home. Tom = she
spoke sharply to a bright little fellow,
who was pounding away with wooden
hammer on chair, and making a most
intolerable din, stop that noise this in
stant And you, Elm, not word more
from your lips. Ii you can't live in peace
with your sister, I'll separate you. Dye
hearl Hush this instant.
Then make julie give me my pin
cushion She's got it in her pocket. y
Its no such thing; have not, re-
torted Julia.
"You have, say.
IL tell you l haven't"
Will you hush p The face Of Mrs.
Lyon was fiery red, and she stamped up.
on the floor as she spoke.
IL want my pin cushion. Make julie
give me my pin cushion.
Irritated beyond control, Mrs. Lyon
caught Julia by the arm. and thrusting
her hand into her pocket, drew cut
thimble, a piece OF lace and a pen knife.
IL told you it wasn't there. Couldn't
you believe me ?"
This impcrtinence was more than the
mother could endure, and, acting upon
her indignant impulses, she boxed the
ears Of Julia soundly, conscious at tue
time that Emily was chiefly to blame Tor
all this trouble, by wrong accusation
Of her sister, she turned upon her, also,
and administered an equal punishment.
Frightened by all this, the younger chill
d,en, whose incessant noise, for the last
hour, had contributed to the overthrow
of their mothers temper, became sudden
" quiet, and skulked away into corners
and the baby that was seated on the
floor between two pillows, curved her
quivering lips, and glanced tearfully up
INTO the distorted face in which she had
been used to see the love light that made
her heaven.
A deep quiet followed this burst ofpas'
sion like the hush that succeeds the storm
Alas, for the evil traces that were left
behind Alas, tor the repulsve image
of that mother, daguerreolyped in an in.
slant on the memory OF her children, and
never to lie cf4ced, How many, many
times, in after years. will not sigh heave
their bosoms, rs that painful reflection
looks out upon them amid the dearest re-.
membranes Of childhood.
A woman with good impulses, but with
scarcely any self.control, was Mrs. Lyon.
She loved her children, and desired their
good That they showed so little for
bearancs, one with another, manifested SO
little fratcrnal affection, grieved her deep
ly.
my whole life is mado unhappy by
it," she would often say Wv hat is to
be done7 1t is dreadful to think Of a
family growing up in discord and disnn-
ion. Sister at variance with sister, and
brother lifting up his mind against
brother
As was usual after an ebullition ofpas
sion, Mrs. Lyon, deeply depressed in
spirits. as well as discouraged. retired
from her family to grieve and weep.
Lifting the frightened baby from the
floor, she drew its head tendcrly against
her bosom. and leaving the nursery. she
sought tho quiet Of her own room.
There. in repentance and humiliation,
she recalled the stormy scene through
which she had just passed, and blamed
herself for yielding blindly to passion,
instead of meeting the trouble among her
children with a quiet discrimination.
To weeping, calmness succeeded. Still
she was perplexed in mind, as we'll as
grieved at her own want Of self.control
What was to be done with her children
How were they to be governed Alright
Painful did she feel her own unftnessfor
the task BY this time the baby was
asleep, and the mother felt something OF
that tranquil peace that every true moth
er knows when young babe is slumbsr'
ing on her bosom. A book lay on n
shelf near where she was sitting, and
Mrs. Lyon, scarcely conscious ofthe act,
reached out her hand for the volume
She opened it without feeling any inter
est in its contents, but she had only rcad
a few sentences when this remark arrest
ed her attention: IAN right government
Of children begins with self-government." !"
The words seemed written for her. and
the truth expressed was elevated instant
ly into perception. She saw it in the
clearest light, and closed the book and
bowed her head in acknowledgement OF
her own errors Thus for some time she
had been sitting, when the murmur OF
voices from below grew more and more
distinct. and she was soon aroused TO the
painful fact, that. ms usual. when LETT
alone, the children were wrangling among
Al Nariona nnisAa aa of nnunl.