Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1889-01-09
IN FAIR BRIT TANY.,
Description of u Peasant's Home, IT'S In.
mates and furnishings, 81

mates and Furnishings,
I entered at his invitation. The
small, low. smoke grimed room was
parlor, dining-room, kitchen, and
nursery-mostly nursery, itseemea, Us
near as / could make out. I was still
blinking with the glare of the blazing
sun tiercely beating on liberal lime
wash sqnandered on: every side-ex-
cept inside. There was pungent
reek of past and present smoke that
helped to obscure the sun-dazed vision;
and it was some minutes before I made
out of the bituminous gloom that Twas
In the presence of an anxious young
mother, wistful and sad of face,
rocking pale young baby in as print.
tive and touching a cradle as ever
met with. Mothers and babies and
cradles of all sorts and conditions had
seen, and sketched, too, IN my little
career, but never had I seen just
such a mothers next before for any
mite OF humanity, no matter how low
~ or forlorn. Jacky saw me cycling it
with an oblique glance of interest and
amusement, and FASTENED to explain,
with IL tone half proud, half apologetic,
that he had builded it all himself, all
out of his own invention, parented by
the moment of necessity. The mate.
rails were donations from various
sympathetic neighbors. The gro
GERS wife gave the oblong pack
ing-case; and he called my at
tention to its happy shape and size.
He made light of the various labels,
directions and other decorations, in
Guiding Gin big stenciled letters) that
word of caution. Fragile" on one end
of it. sit made it more amusing" he
said. The rockers were made from
couple of old chair backs donated by
the cabinet-maker. The canopy (if
one may use so fno word) was an ar
rangement of old barrel hoops nailed
at the head, with an old faded shawl
gracefully draped over them. I stood
gazing at that quaint bit of home con-
trivance with far more interest than I
have given to many a carven and gild-
ed cradle of some by-gone princeling
in some museum. The poor father
could hardly interpret my smile of
amusement over bis handiwork He
did his best to explain and apologize,
never thinking that from my point of
view it was a very ''find" of uncon-
scious picturesqueness.
BY this time the little room had
come out of its thick shadows. The
window was close-curtained to keep
out the glare and the flies, as Jack ex-
planned. Our whispered voices were
not so low as to prevent us from rous-
ing the baby, and she began to dig her
little pink fists into her little pink
eyes, and whimper out a feeble pro-
test at the world in general. said
softly to the pale little mother that if
she wanted to let her sleep on I would
sit down and sketch and never say
a word. She gave little ap-
proving nod, and the curtain was
drawn a little aside for the light, and
down sat to my work, as if there had
been no yesterday of poetry and pleas
ant fellowship. CT hairbreadth Escapes
and moonlight wanderings, of sad
awakenings on the morrow, of rush
ings off-one cared not whither-to
seek forgetfulness. Here, in no time
at all, yesterday and the morrow were
toned into the background, and the
foreground of our thoughts was occu-
pied by ay-tormented baby in a
packing-box cradle. What babies we
are, and what babies we pursued
George Fl. Boughton, in Harpc''s Maga-
zine.