New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1872-06-13
sIeep aua d..

Look at sleeping child, for there can
not be a lOvelier sight. See how regular
and healthy his breathing is, and what
deep peace rests on his little facet The
warmth and e0siness Of tho bed Is flushing
his soft round checks and COloring them to
the true rosy apple tint, ready for the
morning kiss, the best and sweetest kiss Of
all the day.
Sometimes. indeed pretty often, our little
folks remain all night in one position; they
sleep the round of the clock without NOV
ing just as they folded their hands when
they went to sleep, or crossed their arms;
just as they stretched out theig legs or
tucked up their feet; just as they lay on
their side or their back; so they are when
they awake, and after they get up the inn
preston left on the bed Of their little form
is so distinct that one might fancy a mould
could be taken of in plaster of Paris.
However, this is not one Of the quiet
nights. The little sleeper has been tossing
about from side to side great deal already,
and has just turned over again. Every now
and then be mutters something which we
can not understand, and it is evident that
the most veKatious difference of opinion
prevails in the bed as to the right position
of the little sleeper and the bed clothes.
His head is ObstinateIy bent on slipping
down this side toward the middle; the pill
low is equally bent on getting right away,
far up in the opposite corner; the counter
pane is determined to get twisted; the little
shirt will tuck up under the arms; in short,
everything seems resolved to have its own
way.
The most sensible gives in, however, and
matters are adjusted. The head is once
more raised; the pillow offers no resistance
to being shaken up and rearranged; the
little feet allow themselves to be put
straight; then follows a heavy sigh, and
,ft SIN ia
consciousness, but only for a time.
The motley host of dreams has come.
May they only bring such visions as we can
speak good of afterWard. But it is the ex-
ception when they are kindly good genii,
rolling back the curtain and disclosing
lovely gardens full of spring flowers, where
pretty stranger children are playing al ball
and hoop; Christmas trees hung with
lighted lamps; ponds glowing in the refec-
ton of the setting sun, where they are
throwing in stones as big as their heads,
which make such splash; gay blooming
flower beds trees with branches bend
ing down with fruit; splendid toys,
that always increase in number the more
they carry away in their pinafores; every
thing that delights the childish mind.
Often they are nasty, tormenting imps,
which hold out some dainty to the
child and the moment he is going to
take it, away vanishes the gift. They
sit upon him and tickle him with the
night-shirt and sheets, till the poor child
must fancy he is Ill again, and nobody
comes to look for the tiresome pricking
crumb of bread that is sure to get among
the bedclOthes in any sick child's bed. They
are going to take him out for drive, and
he has neither hat nor cap TO put on; he has
some poetry to repeat, that he could say off
like parrot the night before, and now he
can't remember a line of it. Other trouble
he gets into, WHICH we mayn't even men
ton. And just as often there are hairy
looking ogres, which dart out of thick
bushes, out of garrets and chimneys, and
such mysterious places, and run after chill
dren with bright knife in their hands as
if, in the land Of dreams there we're no po-
licemen to watch and keep order.
Hush His lips are moving; he is trying
to say something, but his mouth is so
parched he can't make a sound. All now
he succeeds, and we hear him mutter, in
mingled tone of Indignation and disgust,
the significant words, "Old witch ~ The
child is dreaming of the wicked old woman
with the red bIear eyes, that carried off the
little brother and sister who lost their way
in the forest, and fattened them with ginger
bread and sugar-plums to make them taste
sweet, for the cruel wretch was going to
bake them in the oven for her Sundays
dinner.
Thank God, there is one refuge, where
neither the witch nor the witch's master,
where neither thief, nor rObber. nor MUIR
derer dares to enter The child starts up
in an agony of terror, and his little heart
throbs violently, but he soon sinks back
on his pillows and falls peacefully asleep
again, for he feels he is quite safe-his crib
is close against his mother bed.