The Republican journal., 1886-03-18
The Child King.


The Child King.
| Bn ROSE TERRY COOKE.
"Will you 90 over to Nankln with me tomor-
row" asked kindly Mrs. Brown of her tired
| and hard-Working neighbor. Mrs. Peters. ~ on
| know Association meets there, and husbands
| rot to 90. 50 thought YOU would like to drive
| over and see Your Aunt Bct>ey."
''Oh, should, ever much. but Dell has
| cot to 20 to Il picnic tomorrow afternoon. and
| it'll take me the whole of the morning 10 iron
| her white dress. I've just got if washed and
hung out; and then there's biscuit 10 make. She
wants 'em fresh. And''-
"Oh. mother.' The word, came before the
door flew open, and i'll bounced young girl of
twelve, with the assurance and poi~e of forty,
dressed in Il braided costume that implied a
week, hard work from somebody. her light
hair banged on her low forehead, cheap rings
and bracelets shining Oh her fingers and arms,
Il gilt necklace round her eallow throat over Il
wide friI of imitation lace. her whole air pert
| taWdry and di>agrecable. She barely nodded
| to the minister's wife, and Went on in a loud
voice, "Say. Lucille says i'd ought to have
some lttle Ilrs ana some crcaln-cakes besides
The biscuit, so rum home to tell YOU.
Poor Mrs. PeterS'> face fell.
y don't really see how can Dell Its quite
a piece of work 10 make them creanl-cakc> |
can make some pic-rrust and fix it up for the
pies
"Oh. but | want the crcan-rakes, If Won
,,,.l-.. ..,,. ,..,,;..l.t .t,. ,.u ..
iii'Ne tui 'oii'2't lHN PIES can "alt lili ihorh-
ing.
..RIt Dell I'y, cot to ,,et tl,. brpaLf.st and
..,i.l.. l,.,,,,.l.,,..
wash 'i'' HlAlit> dlu ilahc iilt pt> dliu sweep
and then iron your white dress. and you know
there sights of work on it, and you want the
fuiiieN littc'i. and
''ob, can't you got up real cary:"
Mrs. Brown WAS indignant. \ wise proyerb
cautions us not TO put finger between the bark
and the tree, but She did not remember it.
wv ny don't You make the cake Yourself, Del
! la. She said. Nv hen was your age could
make cake. Can't Nuu%
Della stared at her >cornfuly: Mrs. Peters
put in her word 1T once.
"Oh, haven't never asked il of her Mis-
Brown. Dclfs real delicate, and She loves to
90; children amt children but once. and want
Tor her 10 have a good time. III fetch ii round
somehow, Dell. dear lou tell Aunt Bct>cy,
won't YOU. Mis- Brown. how that | wanted to
see her hut | really couldi't get over. | thank
you Just a> much"
Mrs. Brown offered 10 further remarks
There was :; tone of a@glievel motherhood in
Mrs. Peter>'> Voice that warned her to keep
silence; She said goo,l-bve. and pursuing her
walk up the street rumg the bell at a handsome
house standing i'll wcll-kept yard. that told its
own story of wealth within, She was admitted
to the parlor and warmly welcomed bv Mrs.
and Miss Vincent IA wife Of middle age, and
her >i>tcr-in-aw
But hardly had she begun to talk with her
friends when the door opened, and in rushed
four children of various AGES. who, after nod
ding al the visitor. or reluctantly shaking
hands, at once monopolizcd the conversations
In vain did Mrs. aud Miss Vincent struggle to
be heard,
20 Mary, WAS trying to tell Mrs Brown
"Well. ma, Eve got to 90. | said | would
and"-
"Oh, YES, You told Will Johns you'd 70.
and You've cot to. just like a GIRL I'd'-
''MilIy, dear, want to ask Mrs. Brown
"WeIf Aunt sue | must 30 if Mary uoes
and there's that picnic and
SO il went on. a perfect Babel. which no
present effort could silence. it had been SO long
the habit in this house for the elder, TO listen
and the children to speak.
Mrs. Brown made only a short call; She went
but a few steps further to the house of Il desc
late woman. Il widow. who had lost her two
children a month since with diphthcria. Mrs.
Tenny burst into tears as she came into the
room and Mrs. Brown put her arms about her
tendcrly.
My poor friend"' was all she could say.
.Oh. Mrs Brown. | can't | runt he recon-
ciIcd to it. miss them every second. Hal
used to come in so bright from School-his first
year to 90, you know; and Stl>y was always at
| my knee or in my lap, when She was awake :;
and in the lonesome nights used to listen for
their soft breathing, and put out my hand to
feel Susy's little tender face in the crib. and
thank God had them still, if their father had
left me"
There was nothing to say to this: as of Old
the mother wept for her children and refused