The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1878-11-30
Our 0liu,
PICTURES OF A BOY.
Three Chapters in His Life-chapteri. "Ifs
Boy"

His advent is heralded in the brief but
strong sentence just quoted No matter
what hopes have been INDUCED concern
ing girl babies, there is something in the
pithy announcement, "It's boy" which
dispels all fanciful dreams and sets
everybody squarely on prose basis. His
very voice, as it utters defiant war -whoop
to the grand army of humanity, tells the
story to experienced years. The visions
of a dainty girl darling very soon vanish
before this positive piece Of prose, who
kicks his sturdy heels through the delicate
pink seeks intended for his sister, and
who grows as red as a turkey cocks head
at Thanksgiving times when he is expect
ed to show off to a good advantage before
callers. He persists in an abnormal de-
velopment Of nose and puffiness about
the eyes, along with several other little
tricks known only to interested par
ties. Parents and nurses become recon-
eiled and accept him on trust, seeing no
other alternative. He emerges from his
puffy and rosy obstinaey roly-poly, wide
awake thing of beauty, which is Joy fully
one-half Of the time There is a process
from infancy to little boyhood, sweet
time, when the man-child is half baby, half
angel. In the clear depths of his inno-
cent eyes is a world of trust and hope and
love. His white brow is fair as a freshly
opened lily, and his lips as sweet as her
mosa roses. lie is most witching at this
age, for the peculiarities which mark the
entant terri5Leare yet undeveloped. He is
an armful Of love and beauty and promise
and dread and hope. Love him while
yet there is no guile on the tender lips, no
sin in the unwritten soul no touch Of the
worlds breath upon Gods finished work.
CHAPTER II.-"GET UP, OLD HoRsEY p
"Mercy what a noise Look at that
chair, with string tied on the arms and
made fast to the writing desk and flower
stand, all to be driven tandem by that
young imp in kilt skirt and fancy hat and
shoes Who upset that work basket
aud, good gracious, what work has been
made with my wool and thread There's
the last Graphic torn to scraps and stuffed
in the eupsidore with my serew-driver that
l lost a week ago. What is he doing with
the cat? and, dear me, if he hasn't thrown
grandma spectaeles into the CRATE p
Where's Harry? Run to the kitchen
and see. All the eggs are broken in the
basket of folded clothes, and the milk for
pudding has been fed to the cat and dog.
Bridget Lannigan is in 4 towering rage,
and says, "Phat's the use of Shawn TO
kape clane wild such young divil fornist
YEP" Miss Frigidity Fussbunch calls,
and, and is horrifed by being requested to
"be a horse and let Harry ride straddle to
Boston" She IS questioned, also, on
many delicate points. He gets very close
to her and asks what that white stuff on
her face is, and what makes her wearsuch
a funny little hat.
A few years of this juvenile terror and
then appears another stage of the boy. He
gets fever only appeased by marbles. 1t
is useless to head off this phase; if it is
shut off in one direction it breaks out more
violently in some other. 1t goes through
a period of six or seven years and costs
much in anxiety, broken window-panes
and mortified pride. He is afflicted with
rats, pigeons and other boyish complaints,
which are harmless, but annoying. He
brings in six dirty steeltraps to amuse his
sick sister, who grows worse under it, and
in his solicitude he straps his legs fast to
six feet of stills and stoops to enter the
door Of her room, to the horror and dismay
Of his mother. He brings little notes home
from school, which he tries TO explain in a
favorable light, but fails to convince his
parents that it was "only because Bill
Wilson dropped his slate on Abe Henne-
gan's toes and made me laugh" He earves
his awkward initials on old Mrs. Williams
cellar door and she threatens his arrest.
He goes to see "Humpty Dumpty" and
comes home and throws real brickbats at
his aunt, and Bridget is met with bat
tering blow from his head when she is
bringing in the ccal. He makes life a
burden and homo a snare and n delusion.
He tears the comforts in more ways than
one and slits the pillow-cases to match
them. Gradually he leaves off his hurly-
burly life and imperceptibly glides into
CHAPTER III.-"wHERE' MY BLUE TIR?n
"Where is the backing brush 4? am
going to little surprise, and won't be home
till eleven. Is my percale shirt done up
nice? ? / wish you'd make my collars stiff
fer. | don't thank some one for throwing
my coat down and getting it wrinkled all
up. How do you like this hat? Think
it looks better than my soft one? ?" You
will find the pigeon boxes all deserted about
this period; not rat-trap cumbers the back
yard. The woodshed theatrieals are all
ended; the stills are put away; kites for
gotten and window glass in perfect safety.
The dust has filed up the rude initials in
Mrs. Williams cellar-door, and there is an
unlimited quiet all around the house.
Chairs stay in their places and pantaloons
will no longer bear cutting over for the
boy. He gets them now out of new stuff,
and mothers @eut" will not satisfy him.
he is not in the way now, and there is a
heavy pain in mothers heart as she thinks
that he will never need her much any
more. The innocent eyes have deeper
meaning in them now. They have taken