The New Orleans bulletin. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1874-1876, 1875-08-22
THE NEW BABY.

II there is theme that is perfectly soul-in-
spring and utterly inexhaustible, it is the baby
theme. Those who have had babies know their
latent and revealed wonders, and so do those who
have none; although they 60 upon the principle
laid down in EsoDs fable of the "Fox and the
Grapes" and revle them. There are so many
kinds OF babies, too. There's the baby with
golden rings on it's little head; there's the bru-
nette baby, with SOFT dark hair the baby with
auburn-titned hair, in which color there's q
realm Of poetry, and the white haired baby, sub
ject to 80 many nicknames. OF all the babies,
commend me to the baby-the genuine baby !;
perfectly bald, literally imbecile, with fat creases
In its neck and arms, and dimples in it's face and
Ringers; the baby that stares at you with round.
novel appearance, and that sucks its fist persist
emily and contentedly
Were you ever in the house when the new
baby arrived? If you ever were, you know the
value of the nautical phrase, "Look out for
squalls" Along my street there lived pref
little woman. Every evening I saw her sitting
with her children playing around her and little
baskets filed with rainbow colors Of soft wool and
silks; cunning little socks grew out Of these.
with jolly little tassels and shawls light and tiny
with wavy edges. One basket in particular, was
lined with silk so beautiful in shade the sun
himself might have envied it TOR the splendor Of
his evening couch. In this basket, each article
Was tenderly placed. In it lay little dresses
edged with delicate laces; Iaces that had their
own little stories and memories.
or how they grew in far off countries and
thrived, and in their faxen beauty were cut
down, and turned over to great, rough ma
chinery, that, notwithstanding its ceaseless roar
and rough touch, turned it into fragile thread |;
again it passed into other hands; this time it was
Young girls hands-the lace maker's-and on
soft, siiken cushions the thread was, by. the
magic Of her touch, changed into gossamer lace.
Often and often the g knew the sb .,
formed them. In the story of the little laces |
have wandered of. l may not be magician and
am not. but knew the other children were too
large for the little clothes my. neighbor made,
There is something Intensely exciting about the
baby's carnival to everybody, from "Sairey
Camp down.
Even calm papa seems in tumrlt., 1t
seems 80 natural to expect rolicklng
little chap. We always give the precedence OF
sex to him in these unknown cases; and to mag
inc him cuddled up in his fancy blankets, red
and wrinkled with his little fists tightly closed.
the new baby. 1 was, while full Of these
thoughts, called from home, my little solitary old
maid home. returned late at night, too late to
her how my little neighbor was. Early next
morning, at daybreak, l arose and went to my
window to take peep. "Dawn was close over
me; the silver star, her guide, vet shone. and
soft air yet famed the Clouds"
What was it that made my heart beat so
quickly I? Just acroes the bell-handle, where the
new baby is expected, shadowy something
seems to mufie 1t, something that looks black
and white and the pure morning breeze touches
and moves its misty folds timidly and doubtf1lly.
hurried over and hurried into the house. The
new baby had arrived. How sad and solemn its
embassy. Side by side, its little head upon her
arm. mother and son lay sleeping. Forever to
them the fabulous. gates OF dreamland were
closed. The story Of another life was closed. the
music OF another heart was hushed. Her husband
stood looking down into her face, and softly
touching her hair. As he looked it was not the
dead; it was the gay girl he had wooed; it was the
beautiful bride be had won; it was the wife, who,
homerthe mother OF his title children. Side by
side. they hsd breasted storms, and for his sake
MANY 4 shadow she had gathered up and hidden
in her heart that be might see the sunshine.
How bitterly every impatient word Knocked
him, He bent down, laid . picture on her breast
and some letters BY her nde. Il naa oeen s an
some words OF comfort. did not take them to
the old church. with it's Jewish wisdom, eplendor
and antiquity but from the new church, with its
tender teachings of everlasting life and love, and
happy labor. They told me she never saw the
her arms, and sthus," to quote Charles Dickens,
whom delight to honor, "clinging fast to that
slieht spar within her arms, the mother, drifted
out upon the dark ard unknown sea, that rolls
round al the world" Al.
Briggs set hen on thirteen eggs, and yes
ferlav she came off with one chicken. and as
- A. u L., sv~A bo haod a