"Lor', sir, they always have long clothes, bless their little hearts."And when I explained that her answer, although doing credit to herfeelings, hardly disposed of my difficulty, she replied:
"Lor', sir, you wouldn't have 'em in short clothes, poor littledears?" And she said it in a tone that seemed to imply I hadsuggested some unmanly outrage2.
Since than I have felt shy at making inquiries3 on the subject, and thereason--if reason there be--is still a mystery to me. But indeed,putting them in any clothes at all seems absurd to my mind. Goodnessknows there is enough of dressing4 and undressing to be gone through inlife without beginning it before we need; and one would think thatpeople who live in bed might at all events be spared the torture. Whywake the poor little wretches5 up in the morning to take one lot ofclothes off, fix another lot on, and put them to bed again, and thenat night haul them out once more, merely to change everything back?
And when all is done, what difference is there, I should like to know,between a baby's night-shirt and the thing it wears in the day-time?
Very likely, however, I am only making myself ridiculous--I often do,so I am informed--and I will therefore say no more upon this matter ofclothes, except only that it would be of great convenience if somefashion were adopted enabling you to tell a boy from a girl.
At present it is most awkward. Neither hair, dress, nor conversationaffords the slightest clew, and you are left to guess. By somemysterious law of nature you invariably guess wrong, and are thereuponregarded by all the relatives and friends as a mixture of fool andknave, the enormity of alluding7 to a male babe as "she" being onlyequaled by the atrocity8 of referring to a female infant as "he".
Whichever sex the particular child in question happens not to belongto is considered as beneath contempt, and any mention of it is takenas a personal insult to the family.
And as you value your fair name do not attempt to get out of thedifficulty by talking of "it."There are various methods by which you may achieve ignominy and shame.
By murdering a large and respected family in cold blood and afterwarddepositing their bodies in the water companies' reservoir, you willgain much unpopularity in the neighborhood of your crime, and evenrobbing a church will get you cordially disliked, especially by thevicar. But if you desire to drain to the dregs the fullest cup ofscorn and hatred9 that a fellow human creature can pour out for you,let a young mother hear you call dear baby "it."Your best plan is to address the article as "little angel." The noun"angel" being of common gender10 suits the case admirably, and theepithet is sure of being favorably received. "Pet" or "beauty" areuseful for variety's sake, but "angel" is the term that brings you thegreatest credit for sense and good-feeling. The word should bepreceded by a short giggle11 and accompanied by as much smile aspossible. And whatever you do, don't forget to say that the child hasgot its father's nose. This "fetches" the parents (if I may beallowed a vulgarism) more than anything. They will pretend to laughat the idea at first and will say, "Oh, nonsense!" You must then getexcited and insist that it is a fact. You need have no conscientiousscruples on the subject, because the thing's nose really does resembleits father's--at all events quite as much as it does anything else innature--being, as it is, a mere6 smudge.
Do not despise these hints, my friends. There may come a time when,with mamma on one side and grand mamma on the other, a group ofadmiring young ladies (not admiring you, though) behind, and abald-headed dab12 of humanity in front, you will be extremely thankfulfor some idea of what to say. A man--an unmarried man, that is--isnever seen to such disadvantage as when undergoing the ordeal13 of"seeing baby." A cold shudder14 runs down his back at the bareproposal, and the sickly smile with which he says how delighted heshall be ought surely to move even a mother's heart, unless, as I aminclined to believe, the whole proceeding15 is a mere device adopted bywives to discourage the visits of bachelor friends.
It is a cruel trick, though, whatever its excuse may be. The bell isrung and somebody sent to tell nurse to bring baby down. This is thesignal for all the females present to commence talking "baby," duringwhich time you are left to your own sad thoughts and the speculationsupon the practicability of suddenly recollecting16 an importantengagement, and the likelihood of your being believed if you do. Justwhen you have concocted17 an absurdly implausible tale about a manoutside, the door opens, and a tall, severe-looking woman enters,carrying what at first sight appears to be a particularly skinnybolster, with the feathers all at one end. Instinct, however, tellsyou that this is the baby, and you rise with a miserable18 attempt atappearing eager. When the first gush19 of feminine enthusiasm withwhich the object in question is received has died out, and the numberof ladies talking at once has been reduced to the ordinary four orfive, the circle of fluttering petticoats divides, and room is madefor you to step forward. This you do with much the same air that youwould walk into the dock at Bow Street, and then, feeling unutterablymiserable, you stand solemnly staring at the child. There is deadsilence, and you know that every one is waiting for you to speak. Youtry to think of something to say, but find, to your horror, that yourreasoning faculties20 have left you. It is a moment of despair, andyour evil genius, seizing the opportunity, suggests to you some of themost idiotic21 remarks that it is possible for a human being toperpetrate. Glancing round with an imbecile smile, you sniggeringlyobserve that "it hasn't got much hair has it?" Nobody answers you fora minute, but at last the stately nurse says with much gravity:
"It is not customary for children five weeks old to have long hair."Another silence follows this, and you feel you are being given asecond chance, which you avail yourself of by inquiring if it can walkyet, or what they feed it on.
By this time you have got to be regarded as not quite right in yourhead, and pity is the only thing felt for you. The nurse, however, isdetermined that, insane or not, there shall be no shirking and thatyou shall go through your task to the end. In the tones of a highpriestess directing some religious mystery she says, holding thebundle toward you:
"Take her in your arms, sir." You are too crushed to offer anyresistance and so meekly23 accept the burden. "Put your arm more downher middle, sir," says the high-priestess, and then all step back andwatch you intently as though you were going to do a trick with it.
What to do you know no more than you did what to say. It is certainsomething must be done, and the only thing that occurs to you is toheave the unhappy infant up and down to the accompaniment of"oopsee-daisy," or some remark of equal intelligence. "I wouldn't jigher, sir, if I were you," says the nurse; "a very little upsets her."You promptly25 decide not to jig24 her and sincerely hope that you havenot gone too far already.
At this point the child itself, who has hitherto been regarding youwith an expression of mingled26 horror and disgust, puts an end to thenonsense by beginning to yell at the top of its voice, at which thepriestess rushes forward and snatches it from you with "There! there!
there! What did ums do to ums?" "How very extraordinary!" you saypleasantly. "Whatever made it go off like that?" "Oh, why, you musthave done something to her!" says the mother indignantly; "the childwouldn't scream like that for nothing." It is evident they think youhave been running pins into it.
The brat27 is calmed at last, and would no doubt remain quiet enough,only some mischievous28 busybody points you out again with "Who's this,baby?" and the intelligent child, recognizing you, howls louder thanever.
Whereupon some fat old lady remarks that "it's strange how childrentake a dislike to any one." "Oh, they know," replies anothermysteriously. "It's a wonderful thing," adds a third; and theneverybody looks sideways at you, convinced you are a scoundrel of theblackest dye; and they glory in the beautiful idea that your truecharacter, unguessed by your fellow-men, has been discovered by theuntaught instinct of a little child.
Babies, though, with all their crimes and errors, are not withouttheir use--not without use, surely, when they fill an empty heart; notwithout use when, at their call, sunbeams of love break throughcare-clouded faces; not without use when their little fingers presswrinkles into smiles.
Odd little people! They are the unconscious comedians29 of the world'sgreat stage. They supply the humor in life's all-too-heavy drama.
Each one, a small but determined22 opposition30 to the order of things ingeneral, is forever doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, in thewrong place and in the wrong way. The nurse-girl who sent Jenny tosee what Tommy and Totty were doing and "tell 'em they mustn't" knewinfantile nature. Give an average baby a fair chance, and if itdoesn't do something it oughtn't to a doctor should be called in atonce.
They have a genius for doing the most ridiculous things, and they dothem in a grave, stoical manner that is irresistible31. Thebusiness-like air with which two of them will join hands and proceeddue east at a break-neck toddle32, while an excitable big sister isroaring for them to follow her in a westerly direction, is mostamusing--except, perhaps, for the big sister. They walk round asoldier, staring at his legs with the greatest curiosity, and poke33 himto see if he is real. They stoutly34 maintain, against all argument andmuch to the discomfort35 of the victim, that the bashful young man atthe end of the 'bus is "dadda." A crowded street-corner suggestsitself to their minds as a favorable spot for the discussion of familyaffairs at a shrill36 treble. When in the middle of crossing the roadthey are seized with a sudden impulse to dance, and the doorstep of abusy shop is the place they always select for sitting down and takingoff their shoes.
When at home they find the biggest walking-stick in the house or anumbrella--open preferred-of much assistance in getting upstairs. Theydiscover that they love Mary Ann at the precise moment when thatfaithful domestic is blackleading the stove, and nothing will relievetheir feelings but to embrace her then and there. With regard tofood, their favorite dishes are coke and cat's meat. They nurse pussyupside down, and they show their affection for the dog by pulling histail.
They are a deal of trouble, and they make a place untidy and they costa lot of money to keep; but still you would not have the house withoutthem. It would not be home without their noisy tongues and theirmischief-making hands. Would not the rooms seem silent without theirpattering feet, and might not you stray apart if no prattling37 voicescalled you together?
It should be so, and yet I have sometimes thought the tiny hand seemedas a wedge, dividing. It is a bearish38 task to quarrel with thatpurest of all human affections--that perfecting touch to a woman'slife--a mother's love. It is a holy love, that we coarser-fibered mencan hardly understand, and I would not be deemed to lack reverence39 forit when I say that surely it need not swallow up all other affection.
The baby need not take your whole heart, like the rich man who walledup the desert well. Is there not another thirsty traveler standingby?
In your desire to be a good mother, do not forget to be a good wife.
No need for all the thought and care to be only for one. Do not,whenever poor Edwin wants you to come out, answer indignantly, "What,and leave baby!" Do not spend all your evenings upstairs, and do notconfine your conversation exclusively to whooping-cough and measles41.
My dear little woman, the child is not going to die every time itsneezes, the house is not bound to get burned down and the nurse runaway42 with a soldier every time you go outside the front door; nor thecat sure to come and sit on the precious child's chest the moment youleave the bedside. You worry yourself a good deal too much about thatsolitary chick, and you worry everybody else too. Try and think ofyour other duties, and your pretty face will not be always puckeredinto wrinkles, and there will be cheerfulness in the parlor43 as well asin the nursery. Think of your big baby a little. Dance him about abit; call him pretty names; laugh at him now and then. It is only thefirst baby that takes up the whole of a woman's time. Five or six donot require nearly so much attention as one. But before then themischief has been done. A house where there seems no room for him anda wife too busy to think of him have lost their hold on that sounreasonable husband of yours, and he has learned to look elsewherefor comfort and companionship.
But there, there, there! I shall get myself the character of ababy-hater if I talk any more in this strain. And Heaven knows I amnot one. Who could be, to look into the little innocent facesclustered in timid helplessness round those great gates that open downinto the world?
The world--the small round world! what a vast mysterious place it mustseem to baby eyes! What a trackless continent the back gardenappears! What marvelous explorations they make in the cellar underthe stairs! With what awe44 they gaze down the long street, wondering,like us bigger babies when we gaze up at the stars, where it all ends!
And down that longest street of all--that long, dim street of lifethat stretches out before them--what grave, old-fashioned looks theyseem to cast! What pitiful, frightened looks sometimes! I saw alittle mite45 sitting on a doorstep in a Soho slum one night, and Ishall never forget the look that the gas-lamp showed me on its wizenface--a look of dull despair, as if from the squalid court the vistaof its own squalid life had risen, ghostlike, and struck its heartdead with horror.
Poor little feet, just commencing the stony46 journey! We oldtravelers, far down the road, can only pause to wave a hand to you.
You come out of the dark mist, and we, looking back, see you, so tinyin the distance, standing40 on the brow of the hill, your arms stretchedout toward us. God speed you! We would stay and take your littlehands in ours, but the murmur47 of the great sea is in our ears and wemay not linger. We must hasten down, for the shadowy ships arewaiting to spread their sable48 sails.
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1
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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2
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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3
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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6
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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7
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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atrocity
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| n.残暴，暴行 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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gender
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| n.（生理上的）性，（名词、代词等的）性 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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12
dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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13
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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14
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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15
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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18
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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22
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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24
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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26
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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27
brat
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| n.孩子；顽童 | |
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28
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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comedians
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| n.喜剧演员，丑角( comedian的名词复数 ) | |
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30
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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31
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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32
toddle
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| v.（如小孩）蹒跚学步 | |
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33
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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34
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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36
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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37
prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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38
bearish
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| adj.(行情)看跌的，卖空的 | |
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39
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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40
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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41
measles
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| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
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42
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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43
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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44
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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45
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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46
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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47
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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48
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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