The morning call., 1890-06-08
SKIMMINGS.
Stevenson and Father Damien.
Children in the House.

mems ready to proclaim their faith and i'm
plicit trust in the noble character so villain
ously assailed, but the thousand together
could not so effectively kill the calumny
and unmask the calumniatOr as the one pen
so generously and emphatically welded in
the hands of the Protestant defender, Mr..
Stevenson. His words were born not alone
of that chivalrous sentiment predominant
in every true, gentle heart, but also OF an
intimate knowledge of the subject whereof
he wrote. A personal acquaintance with
Father Damien and personal expe-
rience of eight horrible days in
that land Of horrors give more weight
to his words of burning condemnation
than the expression of bOundlesS faith
could do. A personal acquaintance, too,
with the vilifier renders his sc0rching words
most indsputably victorious A member
also OF the same sect, so far at least he
himself says, "as governed by any sect"
must add weight and Importance to the
cause he so magnanimOusly champion
| His words of defense are no half-hearted
| assertions that die away on the breath that
| utters them; but true God-lihe words that
| sink into the deepest recesses of the list
| ener'S heart and carry with them earnest
| conviction Every one falls with sledge-
| hammer force on the anvil of truth and
hammers the base falsehoud beneath them
| into distorted serpents OF jealous mali'e
that shall live to sting their perfdious au-
| thor and make him the seapegoat Of scorn
for all time.
May the day never come when the mem
ory of Robert Louis Stevenson shall
need defender But should it come, the
| memory of his Christian defense of the
| lowly martyr shall flame up in Catholic
hearts and he will have them ready and will
| ing in his hour of need.
An interesting letter appeared in the
| columns of THE CALL short time ago on
| house-renting, and it dwelt upon the exist
| ing objection among agents and landlords
| TO rent houses to parties with children.
| That this objection does exist is fact
no one who owns nice house, nor one who
| ever tries to rent desirable house or fiat,
| would for an instant attempt to dispute.
| TIE writer evidently has tried house
| hunting, and is well posted on the subject
| in all its details, but while speaking of an
| existing state of affairs does not touch upon
| the cause of the trouble, or in any way
| attempt to probe to the bottom facts in the
| case.
| II you are the proud owner of a lovely
rOse-cOveTed cottage, and in the largeneSs
| and charitableness OF your soul rent it un-
| queStlOningly to very nice woman with
| four children, as children are reared nova
! days, you had better, if you have any feel
| lDSS Ol lONt OT ItNtIcLCS lOE thai cOlLdEb,
take your departure from the scene of your
affection as soon as the newcomers move
in. BY so doing you Will save yodr eyes
the narrowing sight of gazing on the two
boys walking the fence, climbing the roof.
loosening the shingles, playing havoc with
their dog among the roses, See-sawing on
| the lawn, playing leap-fr0g in the bed IF
violets, riding at maddening speed upon
the front gate, and carving names and
initials upon the window-Danes, sills and
walls in distracting prodigality.
The girls, il at all vivacious, as most girls
are likely to be, jump rope on tue verandah,
wearing off the paint, or on the cement
walks, swishing and slashing the vines and
| hOwer-beds with every stroke; or, joining
| with tue boys, urge them on to deeds OF
| greater mischief and more daring exploits.
| If, seeing these things and unable to re-
strain your feelings while patching the
shingles or repairing the gate, you gently
| demonstrate with the aniable mother, you
wonder at your own temerity and are en-
| tirely subdued by her sweet assurance that
it was the "strangest thing how that could
children about it," All her speaking Is
| futile to stay the work of destruction that
| progresses slowly but surely, devouring the
beauty of your lovely cottage. As you gaze
on its fading glory you lnwardly vow that
never-no, never again-will you let a
woman with children into your house when
| one moves out. And you keep your word
| Who is to blame? Not the long patient,
| l0Dg-suffering owner, surely, who has lost
money and patience over the ruin and de-
struction wrought by juvenile pranks.
| The mother Is the one to blame, and Is
! the one that has to suffer for her ll-traiDed,
| fll-mannered, disobedient children. This
| habit of destruction is not at all necessary to
the happiness OF children, and if trained
| properly nothing need be seriously dam
| aged or displaced by them in their childish
rompings. know a home where six little
| ones are growing up in blessed contentment
! and happiness, yet not thing is ever out
| of place or defaced in the house. Their
mother trains them well, and while giving
them abundant freedom checks them prop
| erly, keeping them within bounds and from
running wild. l would rather have the
whole six pay me visit than be forced to
| suffer the prosecutions of two others of my
acquaintance whose occasional attentions
drive me to the verge of madness before
they depart A faint why Johnnie! !'
Naughty May!" being the strongest pro-
test to the rudest conduct the mother
totally unable to control or conquer the
| rebels, who just revel in every conceivable
deviltry their fertile ingenuity can concoct,
rendering their presence perfect terror,
and cyclone or earthquake very angel
of peace in comparison.
The discipline exercised by mothers over
! Young America is certainly not famous fol-
its desiTability or held up as a model fol
sister nations TO copy from. An old poem
from my scrap-bO0k very truthfully Illus
trates the domestic discipline of America"
| Billy Bolen jumped ont OF his bed.
| lie few at his sister ana cut off heT head.
This gave his dear mother great deal OF pain
| Let US hope little Billy wont do 1t again
| Where is your brother? Margaret, tell r'
| Mother, pushed him into the well p
Very unkind OF you. Margaret, really.
thought you loved your brother dearly"