Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1873-07-23
Chronicles of the Children.

1t is certain not many of us are called
to stand on the high places Of authorship.
Few are those whose brows are barred to
the breezes that blow from the summit of
Parnassus, and, mayhap, it is the very kind.
est fate that places us in the sheltered, rest
full valley below; for oftentimes the winds
blow cold and chill over the lofty peaks,
and the snow lies on the mountain-iops,
while summer sunshine sleeps below. But
in one sense l think we mothers should all
be authors. What book can compare with
the wonderful unfolding of those little soul.
buds which open slowly and maryelously
before our very eyes What story charm
like the record of those small child.lives
which are daily taking to themselves form
and color and substance And then it is
not bit for the pubic-this book | would
have you write. No critic shall spy out an
erring mood or tense, or flaw in your in
nocent rhetoric; for it is home-book, con.
secrated to its four square walls, and the
snug circle therein. 1t is only the little
story Of your own Mary and Willie, with
all the every day lights and shadows, and
not at all for effect, but only to keep in
your mind the changing semblance of your
little ones before it is gone beyond recall
We forget so easily-lfe runs by and ere
we know it we have lost the clnging baby /;
lost the wee Willie of meddlesome feet and
inquiring fingers; lost the CLEAN of little
Msry's shining hair playing hide-and-seek
behind the cnrrant-bushes; lost the queer
little speeches. the quaint ideas, the long,
bright, busy days of their childhood. You
have a matronly woman for your child, a
business man for your boy, but the children
never more. There is such a volume lying
perdu in our bookcase. 1t is the most un-
assuming of blank books, but inside is the
simplest, sweetest story of all the world to
me. There all the diverting little things
the children have said are treasured up to
laugh over sometime when the boys sport
mustachcs and the girls long dresses.
Here the home merry-makings, the nuttings,
the wood hunts, the birthday parties, the
Christmas trees, the little journeys, are
told in words which, as they were written
down at the time, have caught the aroma
W ''N Nihoicni uh1'f ~ tuut int1 buhli NC
small mirrors for memory to recall glimpses
OF their child-life to may be, hope, grown
men and women. lnterspersed are photo
graphs--for the most part taken each birth
day-and locks Of hair" Jennies at two
years." "Harry's at four and saddest of
all, If there be among the group a sweet
face which, unknowing to US, may be mark
ed for heaven, how precious the record of
her daily life photographed along its pages;
how sweet the lispings of her childish
tongue as they come back to us in her very
own words They know nothing of it yet
the children-but, | fancy, some winter
evening, in decade not yet born, when the
snow is falling silently outside, giving that
subtle feeling of isolation and content which
great snow storm brings, when we sit
about glowing crate, and the nuts and
apples have gone around, that shall bring
out my little book, and to their wonder in
its pages they shall find their lost childhood
There will be many laugh, | trow, and
may be silent tear, but certainly a new
kindling of the home ties, fresh outgush-
ing OF the home loves.-Heartk and Home
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Search others for their virtues, and
tkx,oalf e.. A.. .,..o.