The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-07-05
WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER?

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HER!
When married had an earnest con-
viction that earth held no mission for
woman quite SO heavenly as that of
being the mother of daughters
l, the oldest of seven sisters, APP
peared to have spent my whole life in
helping mother in every possible way
in the care ''of the girls"-hemming
and ironing ruiiies, tying sashes, brush
ing curls, trimming pretty hats,
making dainty sun-bOnnetS and aprons,
dressing dollies, making lighthouses,
and helping to educate the Youngsters in
all the ways that model children of the
feminine gender are supposed TO need
training. All, the sweet, romping, yet
gentle, dainty six! At this distant day
l look back at those easily governed
darlings with wonder.
When l left my happy childhood
home for the new, untried West, all my
ideal pictures of domestic happiness
embraced the rosebud garden-garden
of girls"
Before the new farm was fairly
opened; before the wonderful prairies
had lost their newness and fascination,
a little bundle, well fanneled, was
brought to my bed one morning.
A fine boy, ma am, q noble fellow"
said the nurse.
"Dear, dear-a Joy," thought I.
-'What in the world shall | do with the
creature?" And | had an indistinct
idea that he would have to be wrapped
up in his fathers old coat until some
trousers and boots could be prepared
for him. | pulled away the blankets
and looked him over. The large joints
and undue proportion of bone reminded
me of remark l once heard stock
man make when looking at an awkward
young colt;
Hell be very strong horse when
he gets his growth. just look at his
joints!'
Otherwise, to my surprise, he looked
very much as mothers little girls used
to look, and nurse had one of my little
girls Chat was to be) dresses on him.
/ touched his little hand with one
finger, and it closed tightly on it. He
opened great dark eyes and looked at
me, and it seemed as if he was going to
say: 'Well, what are you going to do
about it?'
OF course, drew the precious gift to
my bosom with rush of tenderness
that never again failed.
defy any woman to take the entire
charge of an infant in its early years
and not love it. The darling will win
its way to the most obdurate heart.
The new breaking had mellowed
down to smooth cultivation; two nice
crops had been safely garnered into
rail-pens lined with straw when can
other boy'' greeted my expectant ear.
i knew what to do with this one. He
was to wear his brothers out-grown
clothing, play with his broken toys.
watch all his motions, catch all his bad
habits, and tag along close behind at
every step. Another boy' and can
other boy" kept greeting our waiting
ears as the years passed on, until the
little house was filled with boys, and
boots and jackets.
John, the father, who was q some
what stoop-shouldered man when we
were married, began to walk with head
very erect, as became pillar of the
family, and to say my boys in a very
impressive manner. And those BOYS.
Is it not written how they hacked the
trees with the axes, hammered with
the hammers, sawed with the saws,
filed with the files, bored with
the augurs, waded the slews, swan the
lakes, called to each other from the
tops of the tallest trees, and kept such
a whoop-la echOing over these prairies
that Nature, who is said to abhor a
vacuum, never had reason to regret the
departure of the Sioux braves. These
boys filled the place perfectly.
But was the mother satisfied AS she
cooked and scrubbed and made and
mended, what had she to show for all
the years of hard labor? Not much, 1
fear, unless she Did her boys get upon
the scales and give the figures in avoir-
dupois. She had tried 10 train them
to gentleness, but were they gentle?
She had tried to train them to tidiness,
but were they She thought of the
lovely ''Six' who occupied her time in
earlier years, and could not answer to
her satisfaction. Sometimes four of
them would be in the stable at work
before breakfast; and how the straw
and litter would fly from their four
tined stable forks. They would rush
in at the call to breakfast with soiled
straw hanging to their caps, their ears,
their collars; their boots reeking with
unrectifed ammonia, but their faces
rosy and happy. | believe the hardest
thing to learn which came to me in
those days was the uselessness of the
Saturday evening bath, to prepare q
boy for going to Sunday-school next
day. ! learned that with boys upon q
farm, 'you can't calculate with any
degree of certainty upon what is going
to happen" Perhaps just as you think
they are all ready, shoes blackened and
ncckties on, the calves break out of
their pen. OF course they must rot be
allowed to 90 to the cows, but away
they run in all directions, through wet
grass and over muddy roads, small
regiment of boys after them. Over