Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1877-05-16
The Baby in Breeches.
BY GAIL HAMILTON.

lnere was no Gull lOT IHdJ DADy us hHoW
Of There were babies enough before
When, as breakfast neared its close, Harry
was heard humping slowly down the
stairs, pt-pnt, pit pattering through the
parlors and the library, and presenting
himself at the dining room door in fresh
white frock and radiant face, emitting an
gelc whoops of delight, the old house
seemed full of babies. And when he
rushed around the room with fixed eyes,
bent head, and shoulders thrust forward
in fenzied eagerness for a chair, and
when he had made good his divine right
to seat ut the table by pushing his chair
headlong into place regardless of what
broadcloth or ruflles might interpose;
when he had painfully climbed up into the
adult chair, and brought his precious nose
very nearly to II level with the table
with what serene delight, with what en-
tire self-approbation and world-satis.faction
did he gaze around upon us, his aspiring
ambitious, unsatisfied elders! With what
sweet frankness he poked his sudden fin
gers into the peach preserve! With what
sublime abstraction did he upset all the
cups and saucers in his endeavor to reach
the oranges! What u small thing it seem
ed to him, in flashes of adventurousness,
to rise up in his chair, climb upon the ta-
bic, and creep to the otherwise unattain-
able sugar-bowl; and when blind and
unreasonable prejudice interfered with
this. his simple and honorable ambition,
what hearty blows attested to his keen
sense of right to life, liberty and the pur-
suit of the sugar, until some true friend,
more open to conviction than his bigoted
progenitors, set the sugar-bowl on the floor
and restored the equilibrium to the uni
verse.
Certainly Harry was the baby though
to satisfy II reasonable mind. His igno-
rance was of the most approved pattern,
and penetrated every tastness in the whole
province of knowledge. He not only, like
Sir Thomas More, did not know Greek at
three years of age; but he was very i'm
perfectly acquainted with English. He
had never so much rs heard whether there
be any alphabet. He knew how to tum-
bic ali the collars, ribbons and trinkets out
of the upper drawer into Kaleidoscope
confusion. He could toss Billy the fire.
man toward the ceiling in such eccentric
orbits that he would be sure to strike
against the vase and upset the flowers On
his way down. But of any useful know
ledge-o of amy knowledge that promised
to be useful-he was destitute to Il degree
that would have charmed the heart of the
most devoted believer in vital statistics.
But another king arose who knew not
Joseph Another baby must come peep
ing and prying into the world, and the
baby Harry must abdcate. The badges
of his royaly must 60 All his little cam
brio flounces, all his lovely silken stitched
flannel petticoats, the folds and tucks and
ruilles and ribbons of his infantile grace
the insignia Of his innocence, the vestiges
of his heavenly crehtion-were 10 be ruth
lessy rent away, and he was to make his
debut in the straight lines and plain sur
faces and monotonous hues and unmtiga-
ted bifurcations of the unbeautiful sex, the
sex which is not lovely in itself, and which
borrows no lovlness from its dress; for
even the most thorough advocate of the
equality of the sexes must admit that the
handsome man is but II rough and prim-
tive creation compared with the handsome
woman, and that while the plain woman,
by correct combinations OF color and out
line, can at least reduce her plainness 10
the lowest terms, and sometimes combine
it altogether out of sight, the plain man
has nothing to do but to put on his hat
and coat and fight it out on that line.
Of course we all knew that Harry must
come to 1t in time; but why array him
pcrmaturely in the sombre garments of
manhood Why put his awful baby ig-
norance and Innocence in such grotesque
contrast with his manly garb? 1t is only
for his brief bloSsoming that he can have
the beauty of drapery. Once out of it, he
returns to it no more forever. Once rob-
bed of his cambrics and muslins, and there
remains for him through life nothing but
Il dreary waste of trousers-a pltiIesS
stretch OF dun broadcloth, scarcely bright
ened, certainly not relieved, 10y the stiff
ness of starch and uncompromising linen.
The time may come in The hoodtide Of
youth and love when he will put bouquet
in his button hole. In his famished crav
ing for color he may possibly indulge u
blue bOrdered handkerchief! but not for
him the broad expanses Of lustrous hues; !;
never Tor him the rainbow tints, the sunset
blendings. wherein his sister may luxu-
riatc. 1t is only the short, sweet morning
of his babyhood that can be tricked ont in
curve and color, in feathers and flowers,
and all fantastic iinery.
Bat the decree goes forth. OF comes
the bobbing little petticoats that | love,
the chunky little sleeves so full of chunky
| little arms, the baby waist that has moth
ing in common with the trying man, and
never so much as suggest the arrogance
and denomination of the expressing sex =
and Baby Harry goes into breecheS and
ecstacies.
But have my revenge. With the robes,
he has not put on the soul of manhood.
LIisawful innocence is TOO fresh from heaven
to be smothered by jacket and trowsers.
He has by no means yet unlearned the
contortions and climbing, the crawling and
rollings of his lost estate, and his clothes
have hard work to stay on. 1t is only by
the skin of their teeth that the trowsers
keep connected with the jacket. He emer-
ges from his dressing room dainty and
decorous close buttoned up TO the chin, "
collar straight, shoes tied. stockings fast
little man. An hour passes, and the lii
tie man has one shoe off, the string of the
other gone. One red stocking has been
displaced by black and white one, with
the heel cooked detiantly over his instep,
and the other stocking is reefed around the
ankle. Both bare, brown, battered knees
are surmounted with u white cotton crown,
and the minute brecches are tucked up as
high as they will go around the minute
legs. Buttons treacherously parted com.
pany with the button-hoes, and allow and
aloft bears Harry his flags of truce. Dear
little dilapidated man-comical mockery
and travesly of man minikin, midget
baby in breeches-su and MS great con
fusion comes upon all impatient and evil
minded parents who are not content tc
await the flowers slow unfolding, bat will
have the tiny and tender bud spring sud
denly into the broad-bannered rose.
Harry Midget, come here and be re-
constructed. What did you see ut the cir
lcus yesterday"