The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1880-01-19
A Fussy Mother.
Fussing Children to Death-Scene on q
Railroad often Repeated Elsewhere.
Boston Advertiser. !

PIE Boston Advertiser.
Opposite is young woman with child. An
angelic child. This is no common creature
and it would be difficult to exaggerate her
beauty. She is as delicate and dainty as q
fairy. At first one only saw the lovely picture
of rosy cheeks, deep blue eyes,
made qsite angelic by dark lashes,
the enchanting. laughing mouth, abso-
lutely illuminated by the sweet baby teeth
and the finishing touch of loose yellow curl
showing below the white cap Very soon,
however, any woman notices that the child is
not only becomingly, but very expensively
dressed and when it becomes manifest that
the mother is probably the wife of a mechanic,
it occurs to one to imagine what would be the
emotions of European mother of this class
ON seeing child of hers arrayed in all this
lace, embroidery and the softest and snowiest
of woollen wraps.
At once all eyes are drawn to this sweetest
of sweet things-a beautiful child. The first
person to notice her is pleasant-looking man,
who sits with his wife in the seat next the
baby. Something about them makes one feel
that this is childless pair. The baby at this
moment is half sitting, half lying, on her moth
ers lap, kicking up one red-shod foot against
the back OF the next seat. She is almost the
only unconscious creature in that car, as she
lies there perfectly happy and al ease. Friend
" man stretches out his hand toward her. Up
springs the mother, and with nervous hand
seizes the little foot, puts baby into conven-
tional attitude saying, with an accent of hor.
ror: "Why, Maud! Your foot does not look
very pretty up there"
"What is your name?" asks the man.
The baby, bless her heart! has now worked
herself down again into her pretty attitude
and again kicks up the little red foot, making
no answer to the stranger. Again the mother
seizes the foot, glancing anxiously around at
us all, and repeating: "Why, Maud! Tell the
gentleman what your name is; tell the gentle
man what your name is, Maud. Maud! tell
the gentleman what your name is"
Baby is gazing happily row at a bird in
cage hanging near, and visible through a rent
in the paper cover; but the mother cannot
leave her in peace, and begins vigorous push
ing back of the yellow hair under her cap. We
can all feel how it pulls. That done she stiff
ems up the angel III her lap into the attitude
of wax doll, and begins the exhibition again:
"Can't you tell the gentleman how old you
arc?''
"Most two,' the baby answers promptly.
''Oh, no; not most two," the mother says
solemnly; two years old, Maud, say two years
old. And then Maud say this, and Maud
say that, is repeated over and over, the little
victim being shown off and put through her
PAGES, without moments peace or rest, for so
long that it makes ones ears and heart ache.
II is relief when the friendly man reaches
out his arms to the baby in a gentle way, and
che ra;c harh hlua n his and SppiOp that
yearning look there which a love Of children
often puts into mans eyes, and which very
young baby knows how to read, straightway
holds out her arms to him, and he lifts her
over the back of the seat with that expression,
wholly pleased and half surprised, which be-
comes one who has received the highest of
compliments--the confidence and preference of
a little child. How have any of us ever de-
served that the kingdom of heaven should be
given right into our arms?
For few minutes our dear baby was allowed
to rest in this quiet mans arms, to play with
his watch, to hunt through his pockets, to be
let alone to do whatever she pleased. 1t was
not long, however, before the mother began
struggling in an ominous way with her travel
ing basket, and then, while baby was entirely
quiet and happy, watching the reflection ST the
lamp ON the bright watch, large piece OF
what looked like pound cake was passed over
to her by her mother.
1t was hard to see her put her little white
teeth into IL, ana 10 JuQSe IrOm tnIS Wnat tuo
ordinary diet was likely to be; hard to glance
from the beautiful peach-like cheek of the
child to the sallow one of the young mother,
which, together with the fragile broken Amer
lean teeth. TOLD the story of chronic dyspepsia
aud gs'nerol debility. Is this what our bloom
ing baby is coming to?
She throws half the cake on the floor, thank
heaven, but eats the rest, careleSsly and with
out appetite (there is no member Of the s. p.
G. G. present to prevent this case of cruelty to
chidren), and then standing for a moment on
the mans knees she glances up, and through
the narrow window in the roof of the car she
catches sight of the moon.
"Moon!'' she shouts, with an enchanting
laugh Moon up high!" Then up go her
darling hands, and she calls, "Moonie! Moonie
Come, Mooniei"
"Why! she never did that BEFORE" said her
mother. "Maud, sit down and tell the gentle
man where you went with parper." where
did you go with parper, Maud? Maud, where
did you go with parper?" The dear cheeks
are growing too red, now. water" she says,
as she is dragged down-from the companion
ship of the skies. Water, water" it becomes
a moan, and we think of the pound cake. mo.
There amt no water. Marmar can't get you
no water. Water is all gone Tell the gentle
man where you are going, Maud"
Water" moans the baby and turns her
flaming cheek toward her mother, stretching
out her hands to her. water" Water is
all gone: perhaps there'll be a boy around with
water bimebye,' said the mother. "Tell the
gentleman where you went with parper, Maud.
Tell the gentleman where you are going
Maud"
My journey is ended Poor baby goes farth-
er, night though it be, and the last words l
hear as l leave the car are-"Can't you tell
the gentleman where you are going, Maud?'