The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1875-08-20

in a minute. 1t is an attribute of genius
to accomplish its desires with imperfect in
struments. There was no stoppage in the
pipe. | tried it myself.
/ was at my wits end, and laid the baby
on the floor, cramming my fingers into my
ears. 1t was no use ; l could not shut out
the sound. 1t was like thousand scar
piercing pipes" drilling me through and
through. | was riddled with screams that
touched like galvanic wires on every nerve.
The clatter of three-story cotton mill,
with hundied girls talking of new bon
nets through the din, was nothing to it.
All the locomotives in the land tortured
into state of agony would alone compare
with it but mill and locomotive might be
stopped, and baby could not be quieted
even for a moment Anything but Daby's
lungs would have been worn out by such
an abuse of power, but their strength only
increased, seeming 80 acquire new pipes at
every blast. What would | not have given
for the sight of "A petticoat bearing down
to my relief! Never did Robinson Crusoe
on his desert island gaze more longingIy
over the ocean in search Of a sail than did
down the road for bonnet and curls |
coUl0 have smiled lovingly on the fattest
dowager that ever sweltercd in the West
Indies or the thjnnest scrub that pays her
devotions to tie doorStcps but the femi-
nlnes like other useless commodities, had
all vanished when most wanted-evcn the
cat, sensible creature, had disappeared.
Like the distressed hero of a novel, |
was left to my own resources, and had no
resources left. There was a baby topping
about on the floor like a porpoise on ships
deck, as if lying on its beam ends was a
natural position. l righted it dozen
times, but over it went again, as if all its
ballast had shifted to the head. brought
the shovel and tongs and the bellows from
the fireplace but baby wouldn't look at
them, not a bit Of it although l took the
trouble to blow the bellows in the blue
bottles face, and sent the threads ON the
carpet flying about the room. Even the
clother-brush and nutmeg CRATER proved 40
attraction, and | broke suspender button
hopping about like a frog on all fou:s.
If had stood on my head and had shaken
have had no effect. Even lump Of sugar
would not brbe it to be quiet. 1t made
wry faces at the mirror, and pitched saw
agely into the pillow, turned Indignantly
from the ea-kettle, and squared off at the
rolling pin. If had given it the carving
knife do verify believe that it would have
cut of its own head, and made too squalls
r
credit for my magnanimity l forbore.
For nearly mortal hour-an age-was
| thus kept in a state of frenzy. My hair
stood up like ''quills upon the fretful por-
cupine." They have always stubbornly re-
fused to lie down smoothly since. | should
have had ''gray head upon my shoulders"
Perhaps | should have sunk into the grave
with a nervous fever, and have had ''died
of baby nursing" for an epitaph upon my
tombstone. Fortunately for the public in
general, and me in particular, | was spared
such catastrophe 10y the return of the
mother, who burst painting into the room
at the critical moment when my Job-like
patience had miserably perished by de-
grees. as the water leaks from a broken
hooped bucket. With what feeling of
relief did | look up at the old clock as it
announced to me, lin its most cheerful
tones, ''She's come She's come - Would
you believe it, but I'm sure you can't-the
fact seems too great an cnormity-the little
piece Of perversity was as quiet as a lamb
in a minute, Why, the mother was so de-
ceived that she actually called it bel ''pre-
cious lamb - I heard her and was as
tOnished. ! wonder she didn't feel sheep
ish ] know did. Lamb indeed If that
was being lamb, what would it be when
it became mutton? Why. it was fast
asleep again in no time, ard laughing in
its dreams over the fun it had enjoyed.
Didn't I vow never to be caught with a
baby again? If ever l am, may | be
served in the same manner again