Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-04-30
"Baby's PRpa's COmingv'-A Home
Picture.


AM aware that all homes can not be
made happy in like degree, but the hass
of men and women can make them.
selves the pivots around which revolve
so many joys of home that complaint OF
discomfort were mean ingrattude. The
laborer can not afford costly crnserv.
atory nor walk ON Persian rugs. As a
matter of fact he does not need them I;
better still, he does not want them. The
breath of spring, the summers per.
fumes and velvet earth are his in equal
share with Dives, who spends his sur.
plus income for artificial luxuries ito
stimulate a jaded sense, and who vainly
regrets the far richer happiness he knew
when his ''feet were bare and his cheeks
were brown" l have seen the street.
laborer eating his homely dinner on the
curb with his wife or child sitting by
him in content, when he seemed to me
embodied happiness. have known his
coming home at nightfall the signal fo1
chorus of glad welcomes that millions
of treasure could not buy for the child
less man-that even he would not forego
for Dives's Persian rugs and gilded
state.
Last summer I was sauntering along
street a little way out Of the current
of the city's busy trade. i noticed a
cottage with a latticed porch, over
which ran mass Of dark green vines.
A flower bed filed all the space between
the house and the neat fence that shut
it from the street, and pretty walk
bordered with common white shells led
up to the side door, through which /
saw the dinner table spread and evi-
IDENTITY waiting somebody's coming. /
confess that the white cloth, the tasteful
arrangement of the dishes, and bunch
of lilac blossoms Gall of which I saw at
a glance) impressed me as in charming
keeping with the clean and cozy aspect
of the surroundings. was so full of
these things that 1 did not at first notice
what now recall with glow of pleas
ure, and which made me young again
for month after the event. Standing
by the open gate was woman of per-
haps twenty-three. Her face was elo-
quent of health and radiant with the
double joy Of happy wifehood and
motherhood. She wore neatly-ftting
calico dress, her hair was cOquettishly
arranged, and her well rounded, erect
figure expressed the organic grace and
elasticity which belong in the highest
degree 10 the type of women of which
she is a striking representative. Held
high up in her arms was a baby girl
that might have been two years old
II was obviously her first baby. The
soft hair was carefully brushed, and a
dainty white dress was set off with a
pink knot at either shoulder. 1t leaped
in its mothers arms and clapped its
hands with eager delight on catching
sight of figure coming down the walk
nearly block distant. IH
"See," said the mother. "Baby's
papa's coming" And "Papal papal
papal" answered the child, accompany
ing each repetition of the word with an
effort to spring into the air.
The picture held me rooted to the
spot, and when the husband and father,
approached near enough Isaw a manly,
proud and happy face, the sight Of
which sent the blood dancing through
my own veins and revived recOllections
of the time, long gone, when might
have been one of like radiant group.
He wore a blue jean oversuit and his
face was swaTt with the sOoty exhala-
tions of the forge but his square shoul-
ders, firm tread, clear eye and uncon-
scious strength were his unmistakable
patent of manhood. It was not strange
that the pretty mother at the gate hailed
his coming with beaming face and
bounding heart. did not wonder that
his ringing step quickened ut the sight,
on which even stranger, with frosted
and sluggish blood, could not look with.
out pleasurable emotion. One need not
enter that cottage 10 know that in its
sweet and wholesome air thrives a blest
and holy union of hearts and hands. /
shall never forget that summer MONDAY
picture, nor shall / ever cease to be
grateful for the chance that led me near
that cottage gate. The treasures of the
Louvre could not move and thrill me as
did that simple, fresh and bloomful
touch of nature. 1t was like an unex.
pected watt of the odor of new mown
hay in the heart of the blistered and
reeking city" Sigaor Mar IN De
troit Free Press.