Idaho semi-weekly world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1875-1908, 1890-01-10
THINK sEFoRE ScOLDikG.


how One Mother was Cured oil Spea k1nQ
without Deliberation-
Count ten, Tatty, count ten These
words came to my mind the other even
ing, but they were just too late to be OF
service. ] knew quite well at the mo-
ment that had spoken too hastily, and
that In all probability had been unjust,
while If | had followed the rule given to
"Tattycoram," and always counted ten
before speaking when felt ,r.a.assd,
poor little BERTHE would have been saved
heartache, which l can never recall
without pang.
/ had returned mentally and physi-
cally tired from hard days shopping
| IN the city. The tedious waiting at the
ferry, and the over-heated and over
crowded cars had left me with q nervous
headache, trouble which seldom plead
guilty to, and to which was trying not
| to succumb.
| Berthe met me at the door with the
cleanest of faces, with his bright curls
80 smoothly brushed, and with such an
unusually subdued manner that but for
my aching head would have suspected
mischief. There was none of the usual
curiosity regarding my packages, but
such gentleness Of demeanor that |
stroked his sunny curls and asked, ''How
is mammals little Lord Fauntleroy?n
"Please come in the parlor, have
something to show you,' said BERTHE,
and following him there, l saw m.
favorite lamp-shade, the costly gift of a
friend, in fragments. "What ma ughty,
careless little boy!" l began, and with
out trusting myself to say another word
l returned to the dining-room. A few
moments later my husband, all uncon
scious Of the tragedy, entered, made
much of BERTHE, asked him If he had beer
lonely, and if he was glad we were
again at home. / saw the little CHR
culver under his papa's caresses, and
began to appreciate something Of how
the little heart must be aching at thu
prospects OF disclosure which he sup
posed would follow. Waiting until h
had finished his supper and gone int
Inc sitting-room, / related the catas
trophe. Without word, my husband
the brightest and cheeriest of voices
called BERTHE to him, and taking him o
his knee, praised him for having at one
and unasked told the truth about tn
, accident, and in his gentle way dre'
from the broken-hearted child tn
story of .'how he wanted to hel
t Bridget" by beating the dust on
Of the parlor furniture, and of ho'
.e had 'saxidentlv" hit the shad
7 with the broom handle: nor did hi
: father let him relinquish his seat unit
, smiles had chased away the grief froI
his poor little face. Had lost my littl
t boy that night, before l had had time
. assure him of my full forgiveness, an
to make him feel in some way that
7 was the headache and not mamma ths
Z had spoken, should never have fo
given myself. Bridget told me the mex
r day. that after the accident he sat wit
folded hands, unable to play or followe
t her from room to room to ask her If sh
l was quite sure that the four dollar
: from his bank would be enough to pa
d for it. Il was that sorry for hin
= slem," said the kind-hearted girl 9TH;
! could have cried
d have had my lesson. and | think
o shall never again allow myself to spca
even the slightest word of reproof unit
/ have taken time to think. A Wi
] man when asked his secret of educatiI
J. his children, replied: II have alwa
found it desirable to be a little deaf,
|, little dumb and little blind If "
= are given to hasty speeches. it is well
d be- a great deal dumb. Palmetto,
Rural New Yorker