Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1875-05-13
AFsss4I0||1RllnEtueJA
Written for the Hearld and Tribune.
The Trials of Childhood.


The Trials Of Childhood.
Poets have sung III melting strains Of
the pure,iunocent joys of their childhoods
days. and time-scarred, toil>worn, men
and women looking back regretfully, have
sighed "oh for the care.fr hours when |
was a child when the days we're all sun.
shine and pleasure, the nights all rest
and peacel When each moment was
sufficient unto itself and l looked neither
back nor forward for joy, but found it
ever present; joy more exquisite and
freer from even tinge of bitterness than
any | shall ever know again"
There is, | will acknowledge, great
deal of truth in this, but then does not
distance lend enchantment to the views?
Of course your trials are greater now than
they were then, but are they any harder
to bear? Your heart now has been long
in the school of experience, and has
learned to smile at and pass lightly by
small cares and troubles, that few years
ago were absolute misery to your untried
spirit.
So it is with the little vexation and an.
noyances that throng the daily path of a
child. You laugh at them, and some of
them you would not bear with equanimity
now.
Suppose you had to be reused rudely
from your precious morning usp, to be
seen by somebody, you didn't care snap
for, be told to laugh when you felt more
like crying; be tossed about when you
wanted to be still to have something you
had longed for held just where you could
not touch it. just for the fun of seeing
you reach for it. To be kissed by all
sorts of lips when you were by no means
in a kissing humor. To have somebody's
finger thrust in your mouth every ten
minutes in the day, to see Of your ''ittie
bittie toosies was tummin." Suppose
somebody was to wash your face and rub
your nose up the wrong way. cemb your
hair and jerk tooth out of the comb
every time there was little tangls and
scold all the time because you had wiped
the molasses of your fingers in your hair,
when you had been expressly told not to
wipe them on your apron. How would
you like it?
How would you like if you..came in tired
and warm, and sat down in cool corner
to rest, to be sent off to the fatthest room
in the house, to bring book or.thimble
for somebody that had been sitting in a
rocking chair all day, just because you
are younger than they are? To be sent
out Of the room, when neighbor comes
in with a nice little bit of gossip, fol
the very absurd reason tbat"little pitchers
have great ears To have some news
yourself TO tell, and when you eagerly
begin it to be Sileuced with the ridiculous
words, children should be seen, moi
heard?
This is all unmixed pleasure is it? un'
allayed delight? Do you remember the
story of the little girl who didn't want to
live any longer when she found that bel
doll was stuffed with sawdust? Thai
doll had been real friend TO her, She
had loved it, trusted it, believed in it
and the sudden dispelling of the illusion
was as much blow TO her childish heart
as it is to ours now to have some friend
whom we have loved and trusted prov,
but sdsUdast, after all.
So asking your pardon for using stronl
language, think all this talk about tn
"unmixei joy" of childhood, is an w
miced humbug! Every age and perio'
of lite has its pleasures and its balancing
amount of troubles, and they, are give
just as the mind and heart can bea
them. AppOrtioned in the 0mnipOten
wisdom and love of "Him who doeth al
things well."
OMEGA.
Owensville. Ind, May 5th 1875,