Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1872-11-01
Martyrs in Long Clothes.

TALK about maternal instinct! Let's
leave instinct to the dogs-and tho rest OF
the brute creation-and cultivate a little
maternal common-sense.
wonder if the present race of mothers
are trying to kill off the babiesl One can
hardly 90 into the street without meeting
suffering little oHes We really need 8
Berge, and s. F. T. P. o. G. T. Babies
I don't even mention the suferings o1
childhood. pass over in silent indigna
ton the mother who whips her children
in hearing of all the neighbors-whc
would like to punch her head, by the way.
l utterly ignore the empty headed
mothers who dress their innocent little
girls within an inch Of their lives, and
send them out to play, with threats of dire
vengeance if they get mussed, and theil
unhappy boys in velveteen clothes, for
bidding the restless little fellows to sit
down, except ON cushioned seats!
won't speak of that most atrocious
mother of all, who frightens her child
into slence~or obedience by threats OF a
tBugar Man. to carry him off, or an cold
Rag Man." or a "Big Black Dog" peo-
pling the innocent child's darkness with
unspeakable horrors, and planting the
seeds of superstition and unimaginable
CGfTOTS through lIIo. 4NO1 VI bLIO HiOUiiOl
who Clerks" nor the one who "boxes. y
Nor, in fact, will l speak of any of the
martyrs in velveteen or muslin. L con
fine myself to blessed little martyrs in
long clothes.
One set of mothers smother their ba-
bies! See them in the hottest day in Au-
gust, and that unhappy baby, besides
being wrapped in numberless folds of
flannel as to it's internal arrangements,
will be wrapped-externally- blan-
ket-shawl, face and all, five or six folds
thick! Why the poor sufferer don't gasp
its little life out, must be because "their
angels do always have charge"
Another style of mother freezes her
baby. When the weather is SO cool that
every lady is dressed warmly, this mother
carefully bundled up herself-will take
out her baby in low-neck and short
sleeved white dress, with pique cloak tied
so loosely as not to protect it's poor little
neck, nor to pretend to cover one little
bare arm. Even in winter have Seer
one of these creatures of instinct carry a
baby whose arm had crept out of its
cloak, and while the child screamed with
cold, and held up it's poor little red fist,
she would trot it, and feed it, and "coo"
over it, but never offer to warm it!
Then there's the inattentive mother,
who will let her baby lie in the most un-
comfortable position, with the glare of
the sun in its poor little eyes, or some tor
menting fly nearly distracting it, or with
an insane hat with dangling ribbons al
ways in baby's eyes, or tipped down over
It's blessed little nose, or jerked back on
its neck with the string choking it.
And the fdgety mother. Goodness
how she jerks down the clothes, and jerks
up the hat-pulls the feet up just so, and
lays the hands down just so. She gives
the unfortunate little martyr no rest by
night or by day, unless by some happy
chance her restless, small gray eye does
sometimes close in sleep, which l doubt.
Don't talk to me about the happy days
of childhood ! That's mere sentimental
humbug. Do you suppose this army of
martyrs to whims, to theories, to bad tenn
per, to dress, to carelessness, etc., are
happy?
Would you be happy if you had an ire
sponsible giant over you, who would box
Your ears if you CHANGED to soil your del
icate boots, Or send you supperless to
bed if you tore your dress, or shut you up
in the closet if you fell down and got your
knickerbockers dirty +? Would any
amount OF kissing and cuddling in good
natured moments pay you for enduring
these horrors
You know, in your heart, that they
would not, and call on the world to pro-
duce Bergh for the babies.-OIiue 17t0Tne,
in Hearth and Home.