"IT'S no use to talk; I can't do it. The idea of punishing a childin cold blood makes me shiver all over. I certainly think that, inthe mind of any one who can do it, there must be a latent vein ofcruelty."
This remark was made by Mrs. Stanley to her friend and visiter Mrs.Noland.
"I have known parents," she continued, "who would go about executingsome punishment with a coolness and deliberation that to me wasfrightful. No promise, no appeal, no tear of alarm or agony, fromthe penitent little culprit, would have the least effect. The lawmust be fulfilled even to the jot and tittle."
"The disobedient child, doubtless, knew the law," remarked Mrs.Noland.
"Perhaps so. But even if it did, great allowance ought to be madefor the ardor with which children seek the gratification of theirdesires, and the readiness with which they forget."
"No parent should lay down a law not right in itself; nor oneobedience to which was not good for the child."
"But it is very hard to do this. We have not the wisdom of Solomon.Every day, nay, almost every hour, we err in judgment; andespecially in a matter so little understood as the management ofchildren."
"Better, then, have very few laws, and them of the clearest kind.But, having them, implicit obedience should be exacted. At least,that is my rule."
"And you punish for every infraction?"
"Certainly. But, I am always sure that the child is fully aware ofhis fault, and let my punishment be graduated according to thewilfulness of the act."
"And you do this coolly?"
"Oh, yes. I never punish a child while I am excited with a feelingof indignation for the offence."
"If I waited for that to pass off, I could never punish one of mychildren."
"Do you find, under this system, that your children are growing uporderly and obedient?"
"No, indeed! Of course I do not. Who ever heard of orderly andobedient children? In fact, who would wish their children to be mereautomatons? I am sure I would not. They are, by nature, restless,and impatient of control. It will not do to break down their youngspirits. As for punishments, I don't believe much in them, any how.I have an idea that the less they are brought into requisition thebetter. They harden children. Kindness, long suffering, andforbearance will accomplish a great deal more, and in the end bebetter for the child."
At this moment a little fellow came sliding into the parlour, with alook that said plainly enough, "I know you don't want me here."
"Run out, Charley, dear," said Mrs. Stanley, in a mild voice.
But Charley did not seem to notice his mother's words, for hecontinued advancing toward her, until he was by her side, when hepaused and looked the visiter steadily in the face.
"Charley, you must run out, my dear," said Mrs. Stanley, in a firmerand more decided voice.
But Charley only leaned heavily against his mother, not heeding inthe smallest degree her words. Knowing how impossible it would be toget the child out of the room, without a resort to violence, Mrs.Stanley said no more to him, but continued the conversation with herfriend. She had only spoken a few words, however, before Charleyinterrupted her by saying--
"Mother!--Mother!--Give me a piece of cake."
"No, my son. You have had cake enough this afternoon," replied Mrs.Stanley.
"Oh yes, do, mother, give me a piece of cake."
"It will make you sick, Charley."
"No, it won't. Please give me some."
"I had rather not."
"Yes, mother. Oh do! I want a piece of cake."
"Go 'way, Charles, and don't tease me."
There was a slight expression of impatience in the mother's voice.The child ceased his importunities for a few moments, but just asMrs. Stanley had commenced a sentence, intended to embody some wisesaying in regard to the management of children, the little boy brokein upon her with--
"I say, mother, give me a piece of cake, won't you?" in quite a loudvoice.
Mrs. Stanley felt irritated by this importunity, but she governedherself. Satisfied that there would be no peace unless the cake wereforthcoming, she said, looking affectionately at the child:
"Poor little fellow! I suppose he does feel hungry. I don't thinkanother piece of cake will hurt him. Excuse me a moment, Mrs.Noland."
The cake was obtained by Charley in the very way he had, hundreds oftimes before, accomplished his purpose, that is, by teasing it outof his mother. For the next ten minutes the friends conversed,unmolested. At the end of that time Charley again made hisappearance.
"Go up into the nursery, and stay with Ellen," said Mrs. Stanley.
The child took no notice, whatever, of this direction, but walkedsteadily up to where his mother was sitting, saying, as he paused byher side--
"I want another piece of cake."
"Not any more, my son."
"Yes, mother. Give me some more."
"No." This was spoken in a very positive way. Charley began to begin a whining tone, which, not producing the desired effect, soonrose into a well-defined cry.
"I declare! I never saw such a hungry set as my children are. Theywill eat constantly from morning until night." Mrs. Stanley did notsay this in the most amiable tone of voice.
"Mother! I want a piece of cake," cried Charley.
"I'll give you one little piece more; but, remember, that it will bethe last; so don't ask me again."
Charley stopped crying at once. Mrs. Stanley went out with him. Assoon as she was far enough from the parlour not to be heard, shetook Charley by the shoulders, and giving him a violent shake,said--
"You little rebel, you! If you come into the parlour again, I'llskin you!"
The cake was given. Charley cared about as much for the threat as hedid for the shaking. He had gained his end.
"I pray daily for patience to bear with my children," said Mrs.Stanley, on returning to the parlour. "They try us severely."
"That they do," replied Mrs. Noland. "But it is in our power, byfirmness, consistency, and kindness, to render our taskscomparatively light."
"Perhaps so. I try to be firm, and consistent, and kind with mychildren; to exercise toward them constant forbearance; but, afterall, it is very hard to know exactly how to govern them."
"Mother, can't I go over into the square?" asked Emma, looking intothe parlour just at this time. She was a little girl about eightyears old.
"I would rather not have you go, my dear," returned Mrs. Stanley.
"Oh yes, mother, do let me go," urged Emma.
"Ellen can't go with you now; and I do not wish you to go alone."
"I can go well enough, mother."
"Well, run along then, you intolerable little tease, you!"
Emma scampered away, and Mrs. Stanley remarked--
"That is the way. They gain their ends by importunity."
"But should you allow that, my friend?"
"There was no particular reason why Emma should not go to thesquare. I didn't think, at first, when I said I would rather nothave her go, or I would have said 'yes' at once. It is so difficultto decide upon children's requests on the spur of the moment."
"But after you had said that you did not want her to go to thesquare, would it not have been better to have made her abide by yourwishes?"
"I don't think it would have been right for me to have deprived thechild of the pleasure of playing in the square, from the mere prideof consistency. I was wrong in objecting at first--to have adheredto my objection would have been still a greater wrong;--don't youthink so?"
"I do not," returned Mrs. Noland. "I know of no greater evil in afamily, than for the children to discover that their parentsvacillate in any matter regarding them. A denial once made to anyrequest should be positive, even if, in a moment after, it be seento have been made without sufficient reason."
"I cannot agree with you. Justice, I hold, to be paramount in allthings. We should never wrong a child."
The third appearance of Charley again broke in upon theconversation.
"Give me another piece of cake, mother."
"What! Didn't I tell you that there was no more for you? No! youcannot have another morsel."
"I want some more cake," whined the child.
"Not a crumb more, sir."
The whine rose into a cry.
"Go up stairs, sir."
Charley did not move.
"Go this instant."
"Give me some cake."
"No."
The cry swelled into a loud bawl.
Mrs. Stanley became excessively annoyed. "I never saw suchpersevering children in my life," said she, impatiently. "They don'tregard what I say any more than if I had not spoken. Charles! Go outof the parlour this moment!"
The tone in which this was uttered the child understood. He left theparlour slowly, but continued to cry at the top of his voice. Theparlour bell was rung, and Ellen the nurse appeared.
"Do, Ellen, give that boy another piece of cake! There is no otherway to keep him quiet."
In about three minutes after this direction had been given, all wasstill again. Mrs. Stanley now changed the topic of conversation. Hermanner was not quite so cheerful as before. The conduct of Charleyhad worried and mortified her.
The last piece of cake had not been really wanted. Charley asked forit because a spirit of opposition had been aroused, but he had noappetite to eat it. It was crumbled about the floor and wasted. Hismother had peace for the next hour. After that she went into thekitchen to give directions, and make some preparations for tea.Charley was by her side.
"Ellen, take this child out," said she.
Ellen took hold of Charley's arm.
"No!--no!--Go 'way, Ellen!" he screamed.
"There!--there!--never mind. Let him stay," said the mother.
A jar of preserved fruit was brought forth.
"Give me some?" asked Charley.
"No, not now. You will get some at the table."
"I want some now. Give me some now."
A spoonful of the preserves was put into a saucer, and given to thechild.
"Give me some more," said he, holding up his saucer in about half aminute.
"No. Wait until tea is ready."
"Give me some sweetmeats. I want more, mother!"
"I tell you, no."
A loud bawl followed.
"I declare this child will worry me to death!" exclaimed the mother,her mind all in confusion, lading out a large spoonful of the fruit,and putting it into his saucer.
When this was eaten, still more was demanded, and peremptorilyrefused. Crying was resorted to, but without effect, though it wasloud and deafening. Finding this unsuccessful, the spoiled urchindetermined to help himself. As soon as his mother's back was turned,he clambered up to the table and seized the jar containing thepreserves. In pulling it over far enough to get his spoon into it,the balance of the jar was destroyed, and over it went, rolling offupon the floor, and breaking with a loud crash. At the moment thisoccurred, Mrs. Stanley entered the room. Her patience, that had beenseverely tried, was now completely overthrown. She was angry enoughto punish her child, and feel a delight in doing so. Seizing him byone arm, she lifted him from the floor, as if he had been but afeather, and hurried with him up to her chamber. There she whippedhim unmercifully, and then put him to bed. He continued to cry aftershe had done so, when she commanded him to stop in a voice that hedared not disobey. An hour afterward, when much cooled down, shepassed through the chamber. She looked down upon her little boy witha feeling of repentance for her anger and the severity of herpunishment. This feeling was in no way mitigated on hearing thechild sob in his sleep. The mother felt very unhappy.
So much for Mrs. Stanley--so much for her tenderness of feeling--somuch for her warm-blooded system. Its effects need not be exposedfurther. Its folly need not be set in any plainer light.
Some weeks afterward she was spending an afternoon with Mrs. Noland.Her favourite topic was the management of children, and sheintroduced it as usual, inveighing as was her wont against thecruelty of punishing children--especially in cold blood, as shecalled it. For her part, she never punished except in extreme cases,and not then, unless provoked to do so. Unless she felt angry, andpunished on the spur of the moment, she could not do it at all.During the conversation, which was led pretty much by Mrs. Stanley,a child, about the age of Charley, came into the parlour. He walkedup to his mother and whispered some request in her ear.
"Oh no, Master Harry!" was the smiling, but decided reply.
The child lingered with a look of disappointment. At length he cameup, and kissing his mother, asked again, in a sweet, earnest way,for what he had been at first denied.
"After I said no!" And Mrs. Noland looked gravely into his face.
Tears came into Henry's eyes. But he said no more. In a moment ortwo he silently left the room.
"Mrs. Noland! How could you resist that dear little fellow? Ideclare it was right down cruel in you."
The eyes of Mrs. Stanley glistened as she spoke.
"It would have been far more cruel to him if I had yielded, afteronce having said 'no'--far more cruel had I given him what I knewwould have injured him."
"But, I don't see how you could refuse so dear a child, when heasked you in such a sweet, affectionate manner. I should have givenhim any thing in the world he had asked for."
"That's not my way. I say 'no' only when I have good reason, andthen I never change."
"Never?"
"Never."
Henry appeared at the parlour door again.
"Come in, dear," said Mrs. Noland.
The child came quickly forward, put up his mouth to kiss her, andthen nestled closely by his mother's side. The conversationcontinued, without the slightest interruption from him.
"Dear little fellow," said Mrs. Stanley, once or twice, looking intothe child's face, and smoothing his hair with her hand.
When the tea bell rung, the family assembled in the dining-room. Avisiter made it necessary that one of the children should wait.Henry was by the table as usual.
"Harry, dear," said his mother, "you will have to wait and come withEllen."
The child felt very much disappointed. He looked up into hismother's face for a moment, and then, without a word, went out ofthe room.
"Poor little fellow! It is really a pity to make him wait; and he isso good," said Mrs. Stanley. "I am sure we can make room for him. Docall him back, and let him sit by me."
And she moved close to one of the older children as she spoke. "Hereis plenty of room."
Mrs. Noland thought for a moment, and then told the waiter to callHenry back. The child came in as quietly as he had gone out, andcame up to his mother's side.
"My dear," said Mrs. Noland, "this good lady here has made room foryou by her side. You can go and sit by her."
The child's face brightened. He went quickly and took the offeredseat. By the time tea was over, Henry had fallen asleep in hischair. Mrs. Noland, when all arose from the table, took Henry in herarms, and went with him, accompanied by Mrs. Stanley, to herchamber, where she undressed him, and kissing fondly his brightyoung cheek, laid him in his little bed.
Mrs. Stanley stood for some moments over the sleeping child, andlooked down upon his calm face. As she did so, she remembered herown little Charley, and under what different circumstances andfeelings he had been put to bed on the evening of Mrs. Noland'svisit to her.
Whether the contrast did her any good, we have no means of knowing.We trust the lesson was not without its good effect upon her.
THE END.
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