American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1875-04-24
A Plea for I'apas.

IT is one of the saddest facts in fife
| that all romance seems to cluster around
the first twenty-five years of our exist
| ence- People are accustomed to regard
| youth as the period to which sentiment
and poetry naturally belong, and TO i'm
| agine that those who have reached ma
ture years ought to have done with them
altogether. The latter are looked upon
| merely rs workers in this great tread
mill called the world, and expected to
labor patiently through the heat and bur
den of the day with little of relaxation
or amusement, because they are no long
er young, and therefore are supposed to
have almost outlived their capability of
| enjoyment. Youth, with its careless
| grace, smooth forehead and rosy cheeks,
monopolizes not only nearly all the
| pleasure, but also the interest and SYM
pathy. Romance is not supposed to ex-
| ist under wrinkled brows and gray hair.
Thus it falls out that the labor, the care
and anxiety that would attract our inter-
est and excite our sympathy if they fell
| upon younger shoulders, we leave the
middle-aged to bear without thought
how wearisOme and heavy they may find
| the burden.
| There certainly is not much suggestion
of romance in the outward appearance
of the father of family, with his heavy
| eyebrows, shaggy beard and bent and
| careworn look. There is world of in
terest attaching itself to the bright,
handsome boy by his side, who is just be-
ginning a laborious struggle with Greek
and mathematics as the first step toward
fitting himself for the profession he has
| chosen. There is great deal of rO-
| nance surrounding the one few years
older, who has just passed successfully
the initiatOry ordeal of college or uni
| versity, and now stands gazing out with
| flashing eyes and ardent expectation
upon the unknown world which he pro-
poses to astonish. 1t is an oyster which
he will open with sword or pen; and as
he braces himself for a plunge into the
arena where the battle is to be fought he
attracts the admiration of those who
watch him. There is a soft and lovely
halo of sentiment all about the fair
daughter of the household, who is
busted with the half-sad, half Joyous
preparation she Is making to leave the
home that has sheltered her so long and
guarded her so tenderly for another and
different life, all unknown and untried.
She is an object of universal interest to
family, friends and acquaintances, and
the whole machinery of the household
stands still that her wants may be at
tended to during the short time before
she leaves them. And for one day the
other cares and duties aside to cluster
around her and congratulate her upon
her newly found happiness.
Where is there ever a sweeter picture
than that of the little schoolgirl
Standing with reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet
Womauhood and childhood sweet?
Something of a tomboy, perhaps, a little
| embarrassed by her petticOats, and rath-
er inclined to be distressed because she
can't play baseball, but very charming
as she runs about the house with her
crimpled name flying out behind and her
eyes dancing with fun. Then there is
the baby-he who turns the whole house
| topsy-turvy, and fills everybody with &C.
stasy when he gives vent to Two inartic-
| ulate sounds that only determinedly
| interested ears can interpret into
| mamma.
But who thinks of papa. Who thinks
of the one upon whose bent shoulders all
the burden of this family rests: He Is
not interesting-oh, no! With his griz-
Zled beard, wrinkled forehead, and anx-
iOus eyes he looks around upon this
| group, every one of which is dearer to
him than any personal interest he has in
life, and thinks, perhaps, how little inter-
est they have in him. How much of toll
| and care and worry he has borne for
their sake! There have been doctors
bills and butchers bills, school bills and
college bills, jewelers. bills and MILL
ners' bills. How much of toll and anX-
iety it has cost him to provide for all
these expenses no one knows but himself.
What are his own personal expenses? A
quiet suit of tweed, suitable to office
| wear, and his fare in the omnibus. That
is all. What has it cost to defray the
eldest boys college expenses? What
will it cost to prepare the next one for
college? What will be the expense of
his Oldest girls trousseau; and what will
be the expense of bringing the next one
"out?" What is the baby going to do
with itself? Shall he make lawyer, or
a doctor, or a merchant of it? Oh, no!
mot one OF this merry group shall under
go the anxiety, the care, the life of toll
and disquiet that have been his lot. He
would not have the bright, restless spirit
uf his eldest son bent over desk from
breakfast time till evening, computing the
weary problem of debit and credit.
He cannot imagine his second son con-
fined to the dullness of Office routine
from morning till evening, winter and
summer, as he has been. So he redoubles
his labors, gets up earlier in the morning,
works later at night, that these young
people, with their rosy cheeks, merry
laughter and bright dreams of the flu
ture, may be projected from the stern
and dreary side of life with which he is
SO familiar.
And do they thank him for it? Not
always. He is supposed to have a natu
raj liking for hard work, to be at home in
an atmosphere of anxiety and to be in
terested only in his merchandise and
warehouses, his check-books and ledgers
He is no longer young, and consequently
it is concluded that his heart is as worn
as his furrowed cheeks and that he is sc
weather beaten by time that h no Longer
cares for relaxation, amusement or sym
pathy. All the romance that he eveI
had about him is supposed to have passed
away with his youth, and now he is
looked upon as useful sort of machine
, for providing for the wants of his family
and doing his share of the worlds work
, The brilliant youth of whom he is Sc
proud looks upon the governor" as fear
fully Slow" but acknowledges his useful
ness when money is in question. The
younger boy looks up to his elder broth
er with awe and admiration, but shud
ders at the horrors of dreary routine o
daily toll in a dingy counting room, which
! is the only life his father has ever known
The expectant bride considers papa
, opinion of no importance whatever OIL
any subject in which she is interested
He scarcely knows silk from calico, is nj
authority on the debated question o
I Valenciennes or round point and canno
!. tell a fresh toilet from one that has beef
worn. The schoolgirl is slightly afrai'
of him. His aspect is perhaps stern, ant
the lines about his mouth give him lool
: of severity that may be very foreign t
e his nature.