Year: 1872

Most mothers have dread of these.
Mothers would rather their little girls


were called anything but romps, and


say to them, "Be very quiet, now, my
dears don't run or jump; try to be
little ladies' AS it healthy child
could take time to walk or step over


what came in its way; as if it could
fold its little hands in its lap when its
little heart was so brimful of tickle.
Itis absurd and wrong because it is
unnatural. Children, girls as well as
boys, need exercise; indeed, they
must nave it to be kept in healthy
condition. They need it TO expand
their chests, strengthen their muscles
tone their nerves and develop them
selves generally. And this exercise
must be out OF doors, too. 1t is not
enough to have calisthenics inothe
nursery or the parlor. They need to
be ont i'm the sunshine, out in the
world, out OH the grass, out in the
woods, out of doors somewhere, if ii
is no bigger place than the common
park. They need romp every day of
their lives. Suppose they do tan
their pretty faces. Better be as brown
as a berry and have their pulse quick
and strong, than white as lily and
complain of cold feet and headache.
Suppose they do tear out their clothes
tear them every which way, suppose
they do wear. out their shoes, pair a
month, even; it don't try a mothers
patience and strength half so much to
patch and mend as it does to watch
night after night o querulous sick
child and it don't drain fathers
pocket book half so quick to buy
shoes as it does to pay doctors bills.
The odds are all on the side of the
romps. Indeed, we don't believe
there is prettier picture in the w orld
than that OF a little girl balancing her
self on the topmost rail of an old zig
gag fence, her bonnet On one arm and
a basket of black berries on the other,
her curls streaming out in the wind
or ripping over her flushed cheeks.
her apron halfgtorn from her waist
and dangling toiher, feet, her fingers
stained with the berries she has picked
and her lips with those she has eaten.
Mother, mother, don't scold that little
creature when she comes in and puts
her basket on the table. and look rue
fully at the rent in the new ginghanl
apron, and the little bare toes sticking
out OF the last pair of shoes. Wash
Off her hot face and soiled hands aud
give her a bowl of cool milk and
light bread, and when she has eaten
her fill and got rested, make her sit
down beside you and tell you about
what she has seen off in those mead
ows and woods. Her heart will be
full OF beautiful tiIings-the sound of
the wind. thcstalk of the leaves, the
music of the wild birds, and the laugh
of the wild flow ers, the color of the
pebbles, the shade nof the cloud and
the hue of the e,suubeams-aH of those
would have woven their spell over her
innocent thoughts, and make her a
poet in feelings, If not in expression.


> No, mothers, don't nurse. up your
little girls like house plants. The
daughters of this generation are to be
mothers OF the mex t, and ifyou would
have them healthy in body and geuial
intemper, free from nervous affections,
fidgetsl and blues if you would fit
them for lite, its joys. its cares and its
trials, Let them have good romp
every day while they are growing. IL
is natures own specific, and, if taken
in season, warranted to cure all the
ills of the girl and the woman.