Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1880-04-13

neighbor upon the appearance Of her house
and the proficiency other little ones.
81 cannot understand how you accom-
plish it, she said frankly.
"By system" was the reply. "The
education Of my children begins, I may
say, in their cradles. As soon Is they
can walk, they have their own proper
place in the room, and are trained to per-
feet silence when older persons are pres
ent."
Mrs. Turmoyle thought Of the noisy
chorus of shouts. the eager recital Of the
days pleasures or accidents, that greeted
papa, aunties or uncles in her own nurs-
cry, and wondered If Tom, Bessie and
Mark would be trained to sit in one place
for hours at time.
"At two years of age l teach my chill
dren their letters, and after that they are
sent to school. All of them were enter
ed at three years ofage in private school,
and at five in public one. In the inter-
val Of school hours my boys have seogra-
phical puzzles, spelling games and prob
lens, and my girls are taught sewing"
"But when do they play
Their games and puzzles are sufficient
for the boys, and allow the girls to cut
and fit clothing for large wax doll"
"But do they not have any hours for
running. balls, kites, and other outdoor
play"
81 disapprove entirely Of outdoor play.
1t ruins clothes and makes children rude.
They have outdoor exercise in their long
walk to and from school"
As she spoke. the hall door opened
quietly and a fall Of footsteps crossed the
hall to the sitting.room. Five children,
three girls and two boys, came in with
languid footsteps and pale faces, from
which all childishness seemed stricken.
Spotlessly clean, with shiny hair and pol
ished boot, they followed in orderly fash
ion the lead of the oldest, who stood be-
fore his mother. waiting for permission to
speak.
"Well. my SON." she said quietly.
There is no school this afternoon.
The senior class is to be examined, he
said wearily.
"No school! Very well. will set
YOU some sums after dinner, and find you
some words TO study in the dictionary"
Silently the five sat down until the vis-
itor departed, uncomfortsbly conscious Of
ten weary eyes and five pallid pinched
faces.
Crossing her own doorway, Mrs. Tur-
moyle was greeted by merry duet:
"No school. No school,"
Then tenor solo:
won't you make some bobs for my
kite, mamma, There's a splendid wind.
Followed by sweet soprano:
"And o, mamma, you promised the
first holiday you would trim my dolls
bonnet"
~ ant tite, too" struck in Mark.
80, let me get my breath" cried the
little woman. "Wheres your hat, Tom:'
"Oh. l forgot" Tom said, sweeping it
off with a profound bow. "Here take
this chair. And let me take your bon
net and sacque up stairs. You are tired.
Never mind bobs, if you are very tired.
"Tllhelp make them" said Bessie; land
I'll 20 and watch Tom, mamma, If you
don't feel like making the bonnet
"We'll see after dinner" said Mrs. Tur-
moyle, looking from one round rosy face
to the other, marking the sturdy limbs
and dancing eyes. To be sure the hair
of all three must be reduced from q state
rebellion before they were presentable at
table, and soap and water were pleasant
suggestions in the maternal eyes. There
was perfect health and happiness, if the
voices were shrill and the boots noisy.
"Pve been to see Mrs. Stone" she said,
when, washed and combed, her children
gathered around her to wait for papa and
dinner, 'and wondered if could ever
make my children as quiet and orderly as
hers are"
"Willie Stone is milksop" said Tom,
contemptuously, always crying because
his head aches. He can't play anything
and daren't move, for fear of spelling his
clothes. Wouldn't play football, fol
fear he would get dust on his boots.
There's a nice boy for you! He might
be girl at once"
Sand mother, the teacher had to write
q note to Ms. Stone the day that John
Gray spilled the ink on Mauds apron
Che was no afraid TO 20 home it was aw.