The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-10-30

many DaLCleS 10 ngnC WIFI Cne naDlIS
that had grown up with her from era
dlehood, and often before she was
aware Of her fun-loving propensities.
and her want of moral culture prepar-
ed for her pillow of thorns. Not
long after the bitter experience about
, the peeled onion eyes she was sitting
with a group of young people in a
crowded church before services COM
menced, when very large lady, with
green shawl around her shoulders,
came in with some young people and
sat in the seat just in front. Nettie
Immediately began nudging her COM
panion's elbow, and saying, Mother
Bunch! Mother Bunch Yes Moth
er Bunch in all of her verdancy."
Other remarks of like nature follow
ed, until the group was in quite litter
of merriment. After little while
young girl seated by the large lady
turned her head, and, as her eyes rest
ed OH Nettie's face she exclaimed:
"Nettie Armstrong, have not seen
you since we left school a year ago.
Let me introduce my mother; she
will be glad to see you, for she has Oft
ell heard me speak of YOU"
Here was a dilemma, indeed, and
guilty Nettie felt the cut to the heart.
Mother Bunch, the verdant Mother
Bunch, was the mother of her dear
friend and roommate at college, and
she had been ridiculing her thus.
Oh, how could she forgive herself.
She felt like dropping on her knees
and craving pardon, but this she knew
would not do. She could only hope
her remarks were not heard by mother
or daughter. Their kind manner
gave her no suspicion that they were,
but the sting was in Nettie's heart all
the same, and it seemed to her that
their kind attentions were Goals Of fire
on her head, That night, tossing on
her thorny pillow, Nettie pondered it
all over, and the deep drawn sigh pass
cd the lips, and the heart again took
up the bitter note 'would that my
mother and faith er had trained me diff
ferently! Am to blame for habits
which have grown with me year by
year? The blame rests with them.
am the sufferer. Lizzie Armstrong
never has to fight these battles with
self and never has to toss Oh thorny
pillows of remorse as L do. She is
strong and beautiful in character, lead
ing others, and II am the moral
weaklirg, so weak that I cannot walk
myself or even be led right by her
good example"
How hard it iB to break the habits of
childhood! They are like the bones
and muscles in the little body growing
firmer, stronger, more closely knit
each year. How important to break
the evil ones in their inclpiency and
inculate good habits that may grow
strong with the rolling years. How
gratefully the heart turns the memory
pages of q well trained childhood.
The book of the past will be precious
volume keeping for review sweet sun
nv scenes which refresh and strength
Ell US in the din and toll of life. 1t is
true that scarcely any one can say that
at times his stubborn self-will has not
run counter to the teachings Of wise
parents, but even when the scene is
thus darkened we can see the mellow
guiding star tightening and mellow
ing with holy radiance the way OF
the crring child.
On the other hand there will arise III
the heart bitter thoughts, blame, and
reproach. We hold to the belief that
no family is happy where there is no
control, no training, no moral culture.
There will be discordant scenes,
wounded feelings, jarring, and harsh
ness, when there should be sunshine
and music, and harmony, and to one
thus reared the past is a volumne of
unpleasant memories, and it is quick
ly closed, and placed as far back on the
shelf of obliyion as it is possible 10 put
it.
Are mothers keeping the "heart rec
ord ?n In that record are the out
groupings of that inner self noted
down? Can the mother find the first
track of the little child as it steps out
of the path of recitude? Has she tried
to guide the wanderer back? God
help the mothers to cultivate the NOR
al nature of their children.