Home Scenes, and Home Influence | Page 9

roughly from the room, without any
inquiry as to what she wanted. The child screamed for a while at the

door, and then went crying up-stairs.
"Do what you will," said Mrs. Elder, fretfully, "you cannot teach
children manners. I've talked to Mary a hundred times about
interrupting me when I'm engaged in conversation with any one."
"It's line upon line and precept upon precept," remarked the (sic) visiter.
"Children are children, and we mustn't expect too much from them."
"But I see other people's children sit down quietly and behave
themselves when there is company."
"All children are not alike," said the (sic) visiter. Some are more
restless and impetuous than others. We have to consult their
dispositions and pay regard thereto, or it will be impossible to manage
them rightly. I find a great difference among my own children. Some
are orderly, and others disorderly. Some have a strong sense of
propriety, and others no sense of propriety at all."
"It's a great responsibility; is it not, Mrs. Peters?"
"Very great."
"It makes me really unhappy. I am sometimes tempted to wish them all
in heaven; and then I would be sure they were well off and well taken
care of. Some people appear to get along with their children so easy. I
don't know how it is. I can't."
Mrs. Peters could have given her friend a useful hint or two on the
subject of managing children, if she had felt that she dared to do so. But
she knew Mrs. Elder to be exceedingly sensitive, and therefore she
thought it best not to say any thing that might offend her.
There was a quiet-looking old gentleman in the room where the two
ladies sat conversing. He had a book in his hand, and seemed to be
reading; though, in fact, he was observing all that was said and done.
He had not designed to do this, but the interruption of little Mary threw
his mind off his book, and his thoughts entered a new element. This
person was a brother of Mrs. Elder, and had recently become
domesticated in her family. He was a bachelor.
After the (sic) visiter had retired, Mrs. Elder sat down to her work-table
in the same room where she had received her company, and resumed
her sewing operations, which the call had suspended. She had not been
thus engaged long, before Mary came back into the room, looking sad
enough. Instead of going to her mother; she went up to the old
gentleman, and looking into his face with her yet tearful eyes, said--

"Uncle William?"
"What, dear?" was returned in a kind voice.
"Something sticks my neck. Won't you see what it is?"
Uncle William laid down his book, and, turning down the neck of
Mary's frock, found that the point of a pin was fretting her body. There
was at least a dozen little scratches, and an inflamed spot the size of a
dollar.
"Poor child!" he said, tenderly, as he removed the pin. "There now! It
feels better, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it feels better; thank you, dear uncle!" and Mary put up her sweet
lips and kissed him. The old gentleman was doubly repaid for his
trouble. Mary ran lightly away, and he resumed his book.
In about ten minutes, the child opened the door and came in pulling the
dredging-box, to which she had tied a string, along the floor, and
marking the progress she made by a track of white meal.
"You little torment!" exclaimed the mother, springing up, and jerking
the string and box angrily from Mary's hand. "It is too bad! you know
well enough that you had no business to touch this. Just see what a
condition the floor is in! Oh dear! Shall I never teach the child any
thing?"
Mrs. Elder took the dredging-box out into the kitchen, and gave the
cook a sound scolding for permitting the child to have it. When she got
back, Mary had her work-basket on the floor, rummaging through it for
buttons and spools of cotton.
"Now just see that!" she exclaimed again. "There now!" And little
Mary's ears buzzed for half an hour afterwards from the sound box she
received.
After the child was thrust from the room, Mrs. Elder said, fretfully,
"I'm out of all heart! I never saw such children. They seem ever bent on
doing something wrong. Hark! what's that?"
There was the crash of something falling over head, followed by a loud
scream.
Uncle William and Mrs. Elder both started from the room and ran
up-stairs. Here they found Henry, a boy two years older than Mary,
who was between three and four, lying on the carpet with a bureau
drawer upon him, which he had, while turning topsy-turvy after
something or