Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1874-05-14
Childreu's 9epartment.
RED HAIR.

! When 1 was about. eight years old, my
mother called me to her one afternoon, to see
if was hemming nice ly handkerchief she
had turned down for ME. After showing me
Just how to put in my needle, and exactly how
the stitches must look to be right, she took
my hand in hers and said: "What big hand
you have"
Now, my mothers hand was extremely
small, and always looked white and delicate,
no matter how much or what work she did
and 1 couldn't help feeling that somehow |
was to blame for having such big hand.
Then my feet were large, too, and wore out
shoes dreadfully. I never could walk, but
wanted to jump aud run. and hop on first
one foot and then the other.
But what was worse than either big hands
or big feet, had red hair and freckled
face How should l ever get through the
world with red hair? And wasn't there some.
thing that would take away those dreadful
freckles? tried buttermilk, and wheat
bran tea, and cucumber water; but the obsti-
nate freckles stayed there, and remain to this
day and 1 don't care bit if they do.
The first thing I thought of, when saw a
new little girl, was to notice if her hands were
small, and if she had black hair and clear
skin and saw plenty that answered to this
description. But as grew older, and studied
algebra, and wrote composition" and "ci-
phered in fractions" I found that when the
teacher looked at the exercises on the slate or
blackboard, he never seemed to think whether
the hand was big or little that made the fig
ures and when l got into natural philosophy
and astronomy, was not long in being per-
fectly satisfied that the brains under the hair
are of more value than the hair.
What lovely ounces l have seen, with
glossy black hair and taper fingers, or moist,
brown hair and snowy hands, that always
shook their beautiful heads and twisted their
slender fingers in despair, because they couldn't
answer the questions. While they were try
ing to study their lessons they couldn't help
thinking what George and Henry and Willie
said about them, or how they should dress
themselves up for a walk in the evening, and
make themselves look pretty.
But, poor me! 1 couldn't make myself look
pretty My hair would be brash and red
air and sunshine only deepened my freckles
and gave it up in despair. But then L re-
solved to be amiable and smart. How sorely
it tried my temper, which was trying to cul
tivate into perfect sweetness, to be told: "Mr
So-and-so says he prefers the red headed
youDg-lady;" "That red-headed girl, she re-
cites the best"
By-and-by I grew up, as we say, to woman
hood, and my hair was red as ever; but the
head under the hair was packed pretty full
of knowledge, and the quick blood, ever ready
to dye the cheeks and brow the color Of the
hair, had learned to own its mistress, and
obey her behest. | met tall, handsome
young rlan, whom everybody praised for his
beauty and his talents. But what could beau
ty have to do with me, with hopeless plain
ness? 1 never dreamed he could forget the
color of my hair, or fail to notice the size OF
my hands and feet. But he never seemed
to think anything about them, and when he
asked me to be his wife, never thought bit
about them either. We have been married
a good many years, and have three girls and
two BOYS, not one of whom is blessed with red
hair. But, I think if I had been pretty |
might have loved dress and dancing and folly
and not have studied my lessons nearly Sc
hard as I did, or loved learning and excel
lence of character so much, or got so hand
some and smart and good husband, or been
the happy mother Of such family of boys
and girls.
Now, my little red-heads and freckle-faces,
while the pretty little girls are flirting with
the boys and jumping, do you study; study
hard and patiently; control your tempers
for everybody says red-headed folks are quick
tempered be wise and good, and see if you
don't come out just as we'll in the end as any
of your companions. I am old enough to be
gray; but never expect to be gray, my hail
is so red But you will not love me any less
for that, am sure. My own children do not
Rural NeD Yorker