The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1881-12-24
A TALK To Sis.

Come here, Sis, and sit down beside
me, and let me give you little talking
to. That is right. Sit clear at the other
end of the sofa. 1t makes more room for
my govt and corns, besides being good
habit for young lady to be addicted to.
Always pander to this habit and you will
in time find yourself walking through the
green meadows and beside the still
waters of self-respect. You may be
walking alone, to be sure, but will have
fewer lawn dresses to do up on Monday
morning. wish to speak to you of your
mother. 1t may be you have noticed
careworn look upon her face lately. OF
course, it has not been brought there by
any act of yours, still it is your duty to
chase it away. don't mean for you to
run at and shake your skirts and tell it
"Shoo!" as you would hen, nor do l
expect you to get on the other side of the
fence and throw old oyster cans and
pieces of barrel slaves at it, as you did at
the cow yesterday. But want you to
get up tomorrow morning and get break
fast, and when your mother comes down
and begins to express her surprise, go
right up to her and kiss her on the mouth.
You don't imagine how it will brighten
up her dear face. Besides, you owe her
kiss or two Away back when you
were little girl she kissed you when no
one else was tempted by your fever
tainted breath and swollen face. You
were not as attractive then as you are
now. And along through those years of
childish sunshine and shadows she was
always ready to cure, by the magic of a
mothers kiss, the little dirty, chubby
hands whenever they were injured in
those first skirmshes with the rough old
world. And then the midnight kisses
with which she had routed so many bad
dreams, as she leaned over your restless
, pillow, have all been OH interest these
long, long years. Of course, she is not Sc
pretty and kissable as you are, but if YOU
had done your share of the work during
these last ten years the contrast woult
not be so marked. Her face has NOR
: wrinkles than yours, far more, and yet i
, you were sick that face would appear t.
3. you to be more beautiful than an angels
| as it lowered over you, watching ever,
K opportunity to minister to your comfort
n and every one of those wrinkles seem t
e be bright wavelets of sunshine chasin
|. each other over the dear old face. Sh
e will leave you one of these days. Thos
il burdens, if not lifted from her shoulders
}. will break her down. Those rough
d hard hands that have done so many ur
e necessary things for you will be crosse
n upon her lifeless breast. Those neglecte
:, lips that gave you your first baby kis
d will be forever closed, and those sac
II tired eyes will have opened in eternity
o and then you will appreciate your mothe
d but it will be to late. There, there, don
lie cry; she has not left you yet. She
l. down in the kitchen stringing beans fC
rs dinner, and If you feel so badly yo
t. might go down and finish them, and Ii
is her change her dress and rest an no,
to before dinner And after dinner yc
might do up the dishes while she takes
little nap. Then you might take dow
e. her hair and do it up for her. You net
d: not wind it over your fingers and fuss
of make little spit-curls as she used to
We with yours, but give it good brushi
y. and wind it up gently and tenderly, as
ng you enjoyed doing it for her. The YOU
ad man down in the parlor can wait un
nd you have performed these duties
lis Peck's Sun.