St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-11-01
The Happy Dream of Many Young
Parent Rudely Dtspelled.
The Transformation That Comes to
the Tiny Hand and Brain.

ia ~:
OF the few things in this world of sorrow
that serve to lighted the gloom and make
things lively, beautiful baby is the most
successful. 1t fills void in our hearts
that nothing else can occupy Except good
fishing. what is more delightful than to
watch the actions Of little child or to
hear it lisp its first words in musical &C
cents? Its childish prattle amuses and at
the same time touches the tenderest chords
of our hearts with soft thrill and its inno-
cent smile softenS even the heart of a
plumber. Its caressing touch as pure as
an angels, makes the soul glad with a ten
der joy that is only equaled by the mad
deirum of owning So. 900 dog.
These philosophical reflections were in
spired on seeing young father and mother
with their first baby on the cars. The in
FAINT was perfect beauty, its big blue eyes
looking out at the passengers from under
a little hood with serious solemnity conf
cal to see. Its hair, of light brown color,
was parted and hung down each side of its
eyes, giving it an old-fashioned air, and it
was moreover the picture of health. The
father held it on his knee, drawing now
and then the white shawl closer around the
form of his darling offspring and the
mother squeezed close in tender solicitude.
of all of which nonsense the baby saw moth
ing and cared less. watched the trio with
great interest, nothing escaping my Obser
walton. The parents observed every motion
and exchanged glances of proud eXultaton
as they perceived the passengers catching
on to the beauty they had given the world.
Every little while the fond young father
Rugged the darling rapturously to his
breast and when the child opened its rosy
mouth and said, ''Ba-b ba-ba," his chest
filled out and he held his head up more
proudly, as he glanced around to see the
effect. smiling triumphantly att his wife as
the prodigy repeated the feat. Their pride
in being the joint proprietors of so much
loneliness was delicious to behold. One of
the female passengers having remarked, in
tones that were audible throughout the
car, that pretty children always grew into
homely adults" the fathers face flushed
as he looked at his offspring with an ador-
ing glance that showed he did not believe
in the old saying. ''Ah," thought, with
unutterable sadness in my breast, ''wait,
old boy, until that child gets on his legs!
Evidently you're in luck just now, for you
have healthy, bouncing baby who sleeps
nights. You don't have to get up an i'm
promptu undress parade at 2 o'clock in the
morning or chase the elusive paregoric
bottle around the house when the thermom
eter marks zero right alongside the stove
but wait, l repeat, till that child, whom
you know in your heart is cut out for the
president of these United States from the
civil-service expression of its serious eyes,
lets himself loose on your premises and
flies around for eighteen hours in the
twenty-four. Wait until he sets off matches
under the parlor table. Will you smile so
fondly when he climbs up and pulls all the
tail feathers out of the canary bird; eats
the shoe backing and puts the brush. with
your soft hat, on the top of red-hot stove;
or when he takes the scissors and trims the
fur all off your Gordon setter, which you
have just fixed up for the dog show, and
makes him look as if moths had been at
him, Ell? Will you be tickled and go out
and roll with laughter On the grass? Hey?
l guess not. I've been there. Maybe
you'll think it funny when your neighbor
comes in with club and tells you softly
so that he can be heard all through the whole
ward, that your kid has scratched his dear
ckild's eyes out, or thrown stone through
the parlor window and broken a Ben
venuto CeIlini lamp. How about the time
when he puts your watch in the sink and
runs water on it? Will you smile then?
Will you utter whoops of delight when you
come upstairs and find him playing with
your razor, waving the deadly toy in the
air, while every flash of light reflected from
it's glittering blade strikes through your
quivering heart like barb? How about
the sensation you'll have when he takes
your silk hat out and carries sand and
gravel in it for half a day? All these
things and more will he do, this young,
healthy kidlet of yours. When he grows
older and goes on starring tours in the
neighbors' fruit garden, and tears gigantic
holes in the basement of his knee breeches
getting over fences, or going SWIMMING and
is brought home In dirt-cart half drowned
and all his clothes stolen except one little
rumpled stocking, will you indulge in
these parOXysms of mirth? Not much.
I'll tell you what you'll do. You will take
this scion of noble family by his pink,
shell-like ear and lifting him from the
ground, lead him to the retirement which
the woodshed affords. Then you'll fondle
Will VI q CluD, esho oesiA LILO AieoAS
hide, while he yells so that the neighbors
think you are killing something, and his
mother, standing by with tears in her blue
eyes, feels every blow more than If she
really bore them on her own tender flesh,
and gathers him to her bosom after the
matinee is over and sobs in unison with her
bad, bad boy. Then you'll 60 in the house,
and when your old friend of years comes in
to see you you'll both sit and tell of the
deviltry you committed when you were
boys until that sons eyes stick out in
amazement as he thinks of the walloping
he got for doing the same things that very
day. And then after it is all over you will
90 out, get in car and seeing young
couple with their brand-new baby you will
indulge in the same philosophical reflections
to which have treated you in the fore
going freely and literally out of my own
experience. w. M. McDougal, in New
York World.
Two Ways of Looking at it.
Fond Father-How is your boy getting on