The age-herald., 1899-12-31
CHILDREN'S CHATTER
Words of Wisdom from the Mouths of
 Babes

 great success at your house?" was asked a little man the latter part of the week.
 "Oh, yes; I reckon twas, but all the fire works were shot off Monday and Tuesday night that fun didn't last no time; an I broke my wagon Wednesday. I lost my ball, too, same day. I ct up my candy and stuff Monday, and had headache, too. San ta Claus don't make things 'stantiabue huff. Mos everything got is broke. Then I mus go to school again. Dear me! its mos as bad's if there had been mo Christi mas tall"
 An! little boy, you are not the only one who has discovered a surfeit of good things to be worse than none at all. It is only he who has deprived himself of something that he really desired in order to make an- other happy that has tasted genuine enjoy ment during this joyous Christmas week. All play and no work, too, is quite as likely to make dull boy of Jack ''all work and mo play"
 let me help you over that bad place. auntie; lean on mel! I'll help you. I can do it, cause Pm used to helping mother, you sec" So spoke dear little gentleman only years old who was skipping and running and playing about while out walk ing with his auntie few evenings since. He did not know Chow could hep that she was moody and unhappy, and wondering why life was so full of rough places; yet the manly little fellow had helped her over one of these without knowing 1t, he had lifted a cloud that obscured the light and brightened the way for her.
 Dare anyone look upon the care of a child lightly or burden? Blessings upon the precious darlings, for they make life worth living. They keep our sorrows from crush- 4t,er 1f..1.t x10 1A,, ,a1l- ness of the darkest night. They keep us happy because they keep us busy. "For what are all our contrvings,
 Or the wisdom of our books,
 When compared with their caresseS . Or the gladness of their looks?
 "They are better than all the ballads
 That ever were sung or said,
 For they are living poems,
 And all the rest are dead"
 Susie was accustomed to finish her devo- tions at the hour of family worship with: "Dod bress my faver and my mer, my sisser am bruver, my dran'ma an evy- body, for Jesus sake. Amen" For some time she refused to say 'Dod press dram ma" Night after night she was question: ed, but would refuse to add a request for a blessing upon her maternal ancestor
 Finally she said, "I s'ant do it; I don't want bod to press dran ma."
 why don't you want G0d 10 bless grandma, darling?'
 'Tause I don't; dran'ma des lets a little girl lie down on e floor an holler an c'y an c'y, an she don't say Get up,' nor 'hush. nor come here nor whats mat ter, feet-heart,' nor nuthin', am I don't want bod to press dran ma.''
 Two little people were standing at the window watching the stars. Eddie was in the first grade at school, and was rapidly mastering the art of writing. Look, Bes- sier' he said to his little sister, just look at the words the stars make. Wonder is CT "a and heap CT letters. reckon God has wrote lots CT words in the sky for us to read soon as we learn, don't you?'
 No; me don't see nussin' 'tall but jes' a lot o' DodS eyes a. winkin' at us. bod has CT heap O eyes"
 Yes, my boy; God has written to us with the stars, as well as with other things, and one of the sweetest messages He has writ ten Is that His eyes are watching us."
 Robbie was writing a letter to mother, and among other things he found to tell her were the cunning things of a dear. tiny baby rabbit he was betting. He con- tinued 'I keep it in a bird cage. and one night great big bad cat comed in the room and put her claws through the wires and scratched its little head. I guess it's we'll, though, for know you put butter on my scratches and bruises to keep 'em from turning black; so I got some butter and rubbed on it's poor little head to keep the skin from turning black under its pretty fur"
 Nina. darling, why do you look so sol, emn? Is anything wrong!"
 "No, ats the trouble; I'm dest 'gusted,' said the household pet. "Is played and, played evy sing most. My doll is terrible good; my dishes are ze incest kind, and SO is aQl my pitties; am dest troubled 'tausei nussin else I tan sink of to want veal bad"
 Yes, little one; we understand Alexan- der the Great wept once because there were no more worlds for him to conquer. 'Dran'ma, they's dreat many kinds of ticks, ain't they?" "Yes, my child; think so. Why!"
 "They is the COW tick nen they is the seed tick, nen they is polly tick. Dram ma, how would you like to have polly tick bite you?" The trouble is the other way, little friend. The politicQan) sets the bait, and we nibble and bite, too, sometimes. 
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