The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1874-06-27
BUDGET OF FUN.
HascOmb's Baby.

She brought it over to our house, Mrs. Bias
comb dide 1t was their iirst--a wee, little
red.faced, red.headed, pug-noscd, bowling in
FAINT. 1t was one Of the hottest days in July
but she had it wrapped up IN three shawl
and a bed-quilt, and was in agony every mo
ment for fear it would sneeZe.
DO see his darling, darling little face !. sh'
said to me, as she unwound him about forty
times and looked to see which end his fee
was on.
looked. | have been the father OF eleven
Just such bowling little wopsies, and didn1
see anything remarkable about Bascomb's
baby
see those eycs-that firmness of mouth
that temper in his lookn she went on.
saw them.
The little imp began to get red in the face
and beat the air, and his mother shouted:
Hes being murdered by q pinn
She turned him wrong end up, laid him on
his face, then on his back, loosened his bands
rubbed the solcs of his feet, and the tears
stood in his eyes as she solcmnly remarked
Il know he won't lve--he's too smartn
The child recovered, and as he lay on his
back across her knee and surveyed the ceiling
she went on:
Such a head Why, every one who sees
him says that he is going to be Beecher, a
Greeley or n Bismark; do you notice that
high forehead:'
did. thought he was all forehead, as
his hair didn't commence to grow until the
back of his neck was reached, but she assured
me that was mistaken.
Wouldn't just heft HIM once"
| hefted him.
told her never saw a child of his weight
weigh so much, and she smiled like an angel
she said that she was afraid | didn't appre
.,,o Ill hut c1,p l. !
Wouldn't lust look at his darling little
feet-his little red feet and cunning toes?'
Yes would
She rolled him over on his face and un-
wound his feet, and triumphantly held them
I'D to nv gaze | contemplated the hundreds
Of little wrinkles running lengthwise and
crosswise, the big toes and the little toes, and
I agreed with her that, so far as could Judge
from the feet and the toes and the wrinkle, a
future of unexamplcd brilliancy lay before
that pug nosed imp.
He began to kick and howl, and she stood
him on end, set him up, laid him down and
trotted him until she bounced the wind-cOlic
in the middle of September.
Who did he look like"
bent over the scaretfaccd rascal, pushed
his nose one side, chucked him under the
chin, and didn't answer without due delIber-
l.
semblance to George Washington around the
mouth, but the eyes reminded me of Daniel
Webster, while the general features has made
me think of the poet Milton ever since she
entered the house.
That was Just her view exactly, only she
hadn't said anything about it before.
Didn't think he was too smart TO live"
felt of his ears, rubbed his head, put my
finger down the back of his neck and told
her that in my humble opinion, he wasn't,
though he had had narrow escape. If his
nose had been set little more to one side, or
his ears had appeared in the place OF his eyes,
Bascomb could have purchased weed for
his hat without delay. No; the child would
live; there wasn't the least doubt about it, and
any man or woman who said he wouldn't
grow up to make the world thunder with his
fame would steal the wool off y lost lamb in
January,
She felt so happy that she rolled the imp up
10 his forty-rine bandages, shook him to
straighten his legs and take the kinks out of
his neck, and then carried him home under
her arm, while my wife made me go along
with an umbrella for fear the sun would peel
his little nose