The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1909-05-21
Too Busy.

husv woman to whom was senJ II
baby. 1t was beautiful glrl~oaoy
with the sweetest loving heart in the
world. But its mother mad very little
time to watch its little life grow ana
dsvelop. Indeed, 1t almost seemed
that she was more devoted to her
house than to her baby.
One day she was industriously
cleaning and sweeping and the little
child. sat upon the floor playing nap
ply. An impulse came 10 IL and III
crept over to its mothers feet ana
pulling at her dress said, with childish
devotion, 81 love co."
"There, there" said the busy
mother, setting her child back apon
the floor, 81 haven't time now. Play
with your dolle,"
The baby face fell, and the light OF
it's baby devotion died in its eyes, out
with childish philosophy 1T turned TO
its toys and when father came In
with perhaps hungry heart, TOO,
who knuw>?) it found great comfort
In pu ling his hair and poking his
eyes.
Years fly along swiftly when one is
busy, and before she knew II, the
mothers baby was a schoolgirl, shy
and sensitive as wild rose. And
what she learned of life that troubled
her there was no one to guess, for
mother was too busy and father was
a man. Mother kept her neatly
dressed and we'll fed. She taught her
to be truthful and modest, to go to
church regularly and to get her les
sons well. But the shy little heart Of
hers she never thought Of. She was
too busy.
Bat the child came in from school
one day to ind her mother mending.
And she put her arms about her neck
and said, 81 loys you, mother"
"Who ever saw such child" ejac-
ulated the mother, half impatiently.
"If you love me, show it by darning
these stockings. Actions speak louder
than words"
Crushed and repulsed, the child sat
down obedientlY and strove to speak
in the loudness OF actions. And the
mother, tusy with endless scruoblng
and sweeping and sewing, failed TO
realize that she was killing something
sweet and natural, in whose place In
evitably would grow selfishness and
discomfort.
One night, after the child was
grown into delicate. fair-faced girl,
she came creeping into her mothers
room. She had just beer saying
Goodnight" at the garden-gate.
"Mother," she said, softly, coming
to the bedside
$50 to bed child, go to bed" said
the mother. "You should have been
in two hours ago." and she turned
over and pulled the covers up closely
81 wish l had mother" mnttered
the girl, as she turned away. The
words puzzled the woman, but she
was too tired TO understand.
After that, the girl was quister
than of old. If there had but been
one to see she was not quite al peace
One might have thought she was
having 4 struggle in her heart OF
hearts. But there was no one to see.
She did her work faithfully as Of old,
and her mother was too busy to mark !
any other signs.
Yet she went on with her teaching
OF honesty and faithfHlness, clsanli-
ness and order, and the girl followed
faithfully the pattern laid down.
Into her voice sharpness crept, into
her face a discomfort. Her heart
shriveled up and her mind narrowed
and her body grew meagre to match
them. And at last she was old, old
before her time, in face and word, old
without the grace and maturity OF
old age.
One day the scales fell from the
mothers eyes.
Daughter" she said, "you are
thin. What has become OF your rosy
cheeks? And your hair is thin,
child" she went on, taking note OF
these things in surprise. ~ used tC
think you were pretty"
The daughters delicate, disoon-
tented face flushed.
why am old aud thin and ugly,
mother? You ought TO know" 1t
was the pent-up feeling of years that
nade her voice sharp and unkind, II
am an old maid. have no friends
10 one 10 this world to love me. L
have no love In my heart for any one
and perhaps that is the worst thing
in the world, l don't know. But the