The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1903-11-13
H CHILD.
restrictions Under Which the City
Reared Urchin Lives.

London Spectator: The town bred child
has nothing to replace that vista or
dreams which the country child can re-
trieve at will. He moves in set and or
dered ways, even as the stars in their
courses. Certain walks he goes. demure
and restricted; he trots sedately beside
his nurse, or lays a gloved hand in hers.
Shouting and running are forbidden.
Shops, and people, and traffic, in eternal
monotony of noise and hurry, are all that
is offered for his outdoor consideration.
The sunset is shut away from him beind
bricks and mortar. The stars he has only
seen by stealth through curtained Win
dows. Dew Is a matter he cannot COM
prehend; snow is something of a peculiar
and ahesive dirtiness. Trees there are,
and grass plots, but they have neither
scent nor significance for him.. The flow
ers in the parks and squares are under a
regime as orderly as his own, appearing
with punctual precision in their appoint
ed times, even as he comes down to des-
sert O. nights. Birds mean sparrow;
there are others mentioned in rhymes and
fairy tales, but he has never met them.
any more han dwarfs or talking cats.
In his nursery, of course, he romps and
registers; but the whole breadth and depth
of outdoor life are denied to him.. All his
years., whatever he may achieve or en-
JOY, he will be vacant Of those glorious
gains, barren Of those golden memories.
which are the inalienable heritage of his
country cousin.
Meanwhile the country child is laying
up a store of "Reminiscences that will be a
companion to him to his latest hour The
reasons are no empty names to him; each
has It's unique and proper delights; none
Is inferior to another. Day and night are
his, especially that luminous mystery Of
summer night which Is the haunt OF
vague romantic visions. The sunrise he
knows. and the sunset. and all the unim-
ag1nable eXpanses of bare heaven. visible
from rim to rim. He is far sighted, be-
cause there are such unbranded dis
tances Cor his sight to travel; and yet he
may be a keen observer of minute detail,
expert In the tiny variations of insects,
birds and flowers. At 4 or five years old
his sense Of adventure wakes irrepressi-
BILE. leading him into paths of peril and
punishment, and runaway episodes with
impotent conclusions. He may shout and
gamDol unchallened along the leafy lanes,
MS legs and his lungs Vying In exuberant
vitality, none to say him nay.
The procession Of the months goes past
MIN, fraught with boundless possibilities
OF event. Snowballing Is a ceanly and
ex~hilarating spent; an inverted chair
makes an excellent sledge; glossy black
regions of untrodden ice offer prospects
OF skating and sliding, very different from
the muddy pandemonium Of a London
pond. He counts the signs and tokens of
spring. and is not ashamed to go a.
primrosing. The whole joyous circum-
stance OF bird's-nesting lies an open book
oetore him; his legs may be full of furze
pr1cks nj his coat of rents, but there
are precious eggs in his pocket handker-
chlef. He is knowledgable in the ways
OF feathered folk, and the rusty leaves at
tne root of the oak tree do not conceal
from him the n~ightingale's olive-colored
g 9 While his sisters are weaving
daisy chains or tossing cowslip balls, he
rs immersed in the precarious ectasy of
hunting pig nuts; or he is away with
elder boys to h trout stream, to return
roslly triumphant. He e~xcavates piraticaI
caves In the sandptt, or joys a seesaw on
aeftly poised timber. His little garden
CLAIMS devoted attention; he is an adept
with rake and hoe, and carries his first
fruits of cress and radishes in proud trIb.
Ute to a prouder mother.