The Northern Pacific farmer., 1883-08-23
Burdette's Baby.


Time flies, and the boy is learning to
| talk so that other people can understand
him.
''If you would let nae have him fol
about one month";" said pleasant.
voiced and pleasant-faced school-mis-
tress who came down here from up the
river last week. II could break him o1
this careless habit of speaking."
Just because the boy had asked hiz
stern dark-browed father:
"Poppuls, phurs is mines fiffin pole
you peakin' mama um day?"
Which by Interpretation is, as the
pleasant-voiced school-mistress would
have taught him to say:
Father, where is my fishing-rod,. Of
mich you were speaking to my mother
| at some time in the indefnable ft1ture?"
And her little serene highness shook
her. head and said no; he was losing his
| baby talk and learning to speak English
| too rapidly as it was. The pleasant face
of the school tea cher wrinkled up into
an interrogation point.
"Schoolmistress," the jester said, con
| all matters of education your shapely
head is not hilly; it is as level as new
mown lawn, but you don't want to teach
the baby grammar. and you don't want
him to speak good English. You want
him to be baby and you want to en-
courage him to indulge in baby talk. In
the years to come, when the pudgy little
fists will dig great tears out of the blue
| eyes, becarse the boy can't remember
in just what points there should and
must be exact harmony between the
verb and the subject, when he is conf
| dent that he will die before he can re-
member how many fellows besides, "ad.
sn3t5e, ed35e, CON- in or or inter-" at,a,+ ar are
when he knows the world will stand still
for just two hours after school it he can't
recall that all Examinations in something
or other take the what you may call it
after some kind of things; when he is so
trusting and has so much confidence in
| Mr.. Davis that he is not only willing but
anxious to accept his statement that the
sum of the three angles of a triangle is
equal to two right angles, without going
to the board to prove his truthfulness
by demonstration; along in those days
the memory o! his baby talk will come
to us like sweet music. He will have
trouble enough with the English language
and all the appurtenances thereunto ap-
pertaining, by and Bly,"
"No," he responded in answer to a
silent inquiry of the pleasant-faced
schoolmistress, che does not know his
alphabet, thank heaven, and he
shall not be bothered with it. Yes,
he has alphabet blocks and knows all
the letters on them and many prepos
ferrous stories about the pictures. Oh
yes, he can count; here him now, count
ing the pebbles he brought home from
the beach, one, free, seven, free seven,
ten, free, five, seven, free; certainly he
can count, by a system of his own, too
which is more than most people have. .
Don't make q prig OF the baby
school-mistress. From the day on which
they are six years old they must, under
study, and sit up straight, and behave
that time until the grave hides them
they live and speak and act, verbally
speaking, they be, and do, and suffer
under social and educational surveill'
ance. And I claim that at least six years
of the life of a man or woman should be
free; free as the air; free to talk as the
brook runs, with un-trammelled musica
prattle and babble. Why. here a few
week ago, came melancholy looking
child, about four years old, and IN pres
ence and hearing pointed to me, ane
said to bis mother:
"Malnma, of whom is that gentleman
speaking?"
"Poor little p1ig! My heart bled fo1
him. That afternoon I took the boy
down by the target, and taught him t.
say, Mamma, what is dot man speakln!
to you about?" and reconstructed hi
general grammer on the same easy basi
and-look me in the eye-if that DO!
didn't tan up like young Indian in tw
days, and he gained seven pound
"You see," the jester concluded, in Al
apologetic tone, for he had done an un
usual amount If preaching that day
"you see, we haven't very broad ex
,perience in training children; we hay
only one chick to cluck over and scratcl
for, but we're bound he shan't 60, t
school until he's through being a baby
and we know, schoolmistress, that he
the bappiest boy that ever mangle
| orammarV