Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-11-03
His First Tooth.

His first tooth was an event. We raised
the curtains in order TO see better, and his
grandparents brought their spectacles to
bear upon this little white spot, while /,
my neck o.,!s'retsched, demonstrated, ex-
planned and proved-after which ran,
with all haste, into the cellar TO see, i'm q
corner known to myself, bottle OF the
choisest winel
My boys tooth! We spoke of his ca
reer during dinner, and at dessert grandma
sang song.
After this tooth came other teeth, and
with them pains and tears, but then, when
his little mouth was armed with full set,
how proudly he bit his bread, how vig0r-
ously he attacked his outlet, in order to>dO
like papa
Like papal You well know how these
two words warm the heart, and how many
misdeeds they cause you TO pardon!
My greatest happiness-was it also yours2
was 10 wake my little one in the morn
ing. knew his hour, l softly pushed
aside the curtains OF his cradle, and bend
! ing over him, awaited the opening of his
pretty blue eyes. Most frequently l
found him lying diagonally across the bed,
lost IN the chaos of pillows and covers,
his legs in the air and his arms crossed
above his head; very often his dimpled fin
gers still clasped the toy with which he
had played himself to sleep the evening
before and from between hIs half open
lips escaped the soft and regular murmur
OF his respiration. The warmth of his
downy nest had given TO his cheeks the
hues of ripe peach. His skin was warm,
and the perspTation or the night stood
upon his forehead in scarcely perceptible
little pearls
Very soon. however, he E>lde a move
ment with his head, his foot pIshed pushed
back the covers and his inttle body
writhed; he rubbed his eyes, stretched out
MS arms and, then, his half open eyes fixed
themselves upon me.
BE smiled on me as he murmured very
low, so low that held my breath TO catch
the tones of his baby music:
"Doed MORN papal'
Good morning, my little man, you
slept well last night, did youa"
Then we held out our arms 10 each 9th
er, and embraced like two old comrades,
And then the prattling commenced.
He ratified on as the lark sings at sunrise,
and the chat.erlng was interminablO.
He told me his dreams pausing after
every phrase TO ask for his panad0 with
lots of butter in itI'' And when this good,
steamIng panado arrived, what laughter,
what Joy; how he sprang towards it as he
rasped the curtains for support; his eye
was all the brighter for the tear that stood
in the corner, and fhe chattering recon-
menced.
Sometimes, he would come to surprise
me in bed. and, when | pretended to be
asleep, would pull my beard and shout in
my ear. Then | feigned to be terribly
frightened. and swore TO be revenged.
This was the signal for pillow-fghts, bar
ricades of holsters, etc. In token OF vic
tory, would then tickle HIM, and he, the
darling would give vent to frank and invol-
untary peals of laughter known only 10 IN
nocent, happy childhood. He would
draw In his head between his shoulders, in
imitation of his toy tortoise, and menace
me with his chubby, rosy foot. The SKIN
Of his heel wss so rine that it might have
put to the blush the cheeks of q young
girl. How l covered those dear little feet
will. KISSES as | warmed his long night
gown before the fire in the EVENING"
They had forbidden me to undress him,
under the pretext that invgriably entang-
led the strings of his gown, instead OF un-
doing them.
All this was charming; but when / was
forced to arrest the reckless course OF his
boysh freedom, his little head sunk upon
his breast, his lips trembed and he strove
manfully to suppress the flood of sparkling
tears that cleaned under h Q long lashes.
How much courage it requres to resist
the temptation to calm this storm with
kiss to cous0l9 this swelling little heart and
TO dry the tear that heralds the torrent.
And now touching is the expression Of
a Child's face this moment. There is 80
much pain in the warm tear that slowly
trickles down the cheek, 50 much suffer-
ing in the contraction of the little muscles
and In the rising and falling of the below
ed breastl
But all this was long ago. Still the
wears have not been able to efface these
sweet souvenirs, and now, though my ba-
by is thirty and wears great moustache.
when u holds out his hand, saying, IN his
bass voice: "Good morning, fatherl" 1t
seems to me that an echo repeats in the
far distance, these cherished words OF
yore; ''Dood morn papa!"