The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1875-04-14
MToT.

foiyoouy hnsf'
luck. house, barTsd out from all good fellow
ship, IN whose hieshold you can not fn'
the dusty print OF Sis little foot, or the glas
of WHOSE window glitters too costly ant
clear for the maj Of his fingers. The odt
point about him itsAhat you find him where
ever you 90. PuS or that daintiest spirit
Ariel, were but %y fellows beside him
They never were fg 4 in more than one place
at time; they ha' travel post when they
set out to girdle u arth in forty minutes
But il. you go into q statelest mansion OIL
Murray Hill, there ) Tot in his fleece o.
finest lace; and wh @you take shelter ou
in the hut on the Erairie, there he is in the
warm corner Of it, swAadled in yellow fan
mel. Nothing canlbe ! mon or fani
liar than his rosy littfI s5by legs;
'hs1s asios i .s.1 NOT s.as ses no. seIa sssi 10
ETY. and care; Sas Ssshirg t-EEgs,s un-
common or unfamiliar than the Ssls@:-ss g awed
sense with which from day to day we always
meet them. We all nurse Tot and coddle
him and scold him; his teething and his collie,
his cap and worn shoes are real things; but
somehow, with all, he is not real. There iS
world wide conviction that he is of diviner
origin than we, something lent to us-alien
to our work.day world. His sweet foolish
ness, his ignorant ways, his broken talk, his
hurry to love and be loved, we may refer to
immature brain or muscle, but there is a
strange, supernatural power in them which
we do not account for. Everybody pays
homage to it. The surliest dog knows it and
is gentle with him. 1t calls all that is good
in men or women to the light perpetually.
The callous, drunken wretch, hardened to all
exhortation or entreaty, looks at the laughing
face of the dear baby, and touches its hand,
and human pain and desire struggle up
through the burnt brain, fresh and pure, the
remembrance of his mother, of the innocent
boy he was, the man he might have been.
Go into your next neighbor's house and see
what manner of king is Tot There may be
legion of aches and pains and worries, the
great grief of moral illness, debts pouring
in with every postman's knock in shoals of
yellow envelopes, despair above stairs and
insolent ill, temper in the kitchen but what
does Baby know of it? He is kept in the
warmth and light. Heart sick mother and
surly cook sing and laugh for him. 1t is
the old story of the den of wild beasts and
the little child that leti them. There is our
friend, young Stott, who married that silly
daughter of Fish, the sugar dealer: 1t was
a pretty fair type of an average society mar
riage. StOtt is an entertaining fellow for a
half hour, good judgeSf cigar, tells story
well, fair shot at billiards, had the usual dis
taste Of men of his caliber for any part of
business except the drawing of his salary.
Miss Fish had led the German with him all
winter; he thought her taste in dress better
than that of any other girl of the set, and
was struck with her appreciation of his fav-
orite operas and plays. 1t seemed quite
natural for them to marry. Two or three
months ago this wonder, Tot, come to them.
The little red thing, peering out of its fan.
nels, created human soul, and it seemed in
both of them. They found traces Of each
other in it; it was an ordinary baby to other
people, but to them mystery miracle; it
bound them together with strange new love
for each other; it bound them both to an
awful unknown life beyond. 1t has worked
by this time an odd change in them both.
Mrs. Stott spends her days in the nursery,
and has given up millinery for medical books.
Stott has gone energetically to work, I" in
tends that boy of his shall have as fair a
start in life as any other fellow" There is
certain gravity, common-sense and self.re'
spect apparent in Stott, too, which hint thai
the change lies at the root of things.
When we look from shis house to others
at the baby's work, andremember how thai
all over the world since, time began it hat
been the same how selfish men have grown
generous, and dissolute men sober and moral
for their children's sake, how giddy girl
have been metamorphosed into patien
drudges how day by day and hour by houl
harsh words are softened and tired heart
lightened by the baby-when we think o
the tenderness and delight that surround tn
cradle from Indus to the pole, we begin t.
understand that t6is feeble little Tot is in
deed one of the most potent agents sent b.
God to bring the world to him. We see tn
plain rational fact underlying the blind rev
erence we give him why, when we woul
give shape to our idea of the highest spiri
in heaven, we make them like our darling
and why more than all, when Christ woul
teach his disciples the most enduring lessor
he took little child and set him in the mids
of them.-New York Tribune.
e
A Good eply.
A lady had written en- a card, and place
on the top of an hour-glass in her garde