NOT ALWAYS TO THE STRONG.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXV, Issue 10837, 22 August 1898, Page 3

NOT ALWAYS TO THE STRONG.

& PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

—•— BY ETHEL TURNER. [COPYRIGHT.] Dora lay in her small white bod with wakeful eyes staring at a ladder of white beams the summer moonlight had worked upon the ceiling. A few feet away was another white bed and another small girl occupant, who, however saw only dream moonbeams, as befitted the tender age of eight, at eleven o'clock. Fur-, tlier away still was a wide cot, where among the tossed clothes in lovely sleep lay two chubby cherub boys of two and three-Jim-mie and Jack. A door at the end of the room led into another bed chamber, where a night lirfit flung a timid brightness on the gloom. And up and down, up and down on tho China matting went the soft, regular tread of bare feet And on and on, on and on went the low crooning song that seemed to have no beinning and never reached an end; a son ff with an odd, mournful, soothing cadence running through it all the time, though the words wore almost merry at times, and the melody changed frequently. ' Often there was a little wailing accom pamment to it, but the persistence of the genno sniping, and the soft tread, tread of feet made it die away till only a sleepy Mb ft long-drawn sigh made other sound in the room. ," u

Jack and Mela used often to wake and lie open-eyed alittle time in the warm darkness of the night and feel glad and comforted at tho sound of the low tender voice and soft moving feet over there where there was lust light enough to see shadows. And Jimmio y/oko too sometimes, but ho bad a nue»r little, complex soul, for all his rosy cheeks and surprising appetite. The sound used Often to fill his heart with melancholy, and made him cry under tho clothes, though why he had not the slightest idea. "' Only Dora carped at it. She was a strange sharp hit being of twelve; even the aunts who worshipped tho chubby boys and merry Meta, and the twin babies, could not bring themselves to love hor warmly, though they tried conscientiously. She had been precocious all her life, but what was pretty and Surprising in her when she was four or live had become at twelve quite an infirmity. The friends of tho family called her an ""objectionable child," and were quite afraid to toy anything either to her or before her. When they caino to the house they petted and played with the other children and avoid.* 1 her as much as they could, making few remarks to her. Sometimes the little girl noticed it, and used to make herself miserably unhappy about it. '" Docs Mrs. Mayhon only like toys, mamma?" she asked when her sharpness had obsorved once the rebuffs she had met with at this visitor's hands.

"Oh, no," the mothei said unguardedly; "sho is far fonder of girls. Sho says sho would give the world if Meta was her vtiy own."

Dora looked over to little sunny-faced Meta.

" Why doesn't she like me?" she said anxiously. Then the mother was confronted again with the problem that was beginning to worry her. "How do you know that she doesn't, my daughter?" she said. Dora flung back her brown, straight hair in her peculiarly expressive way. Oh, I know," t'iio said. _ Tho mother looked anxiously at the sharp little face.

" Perhaps you didn't mlike yourself as agreeable to her as Meta did," she said. " Mela didn't do anything," Dora contended, " anything at all; she just sal on her knee and showed her that old Mary Ann doll of hers, and kept bothering her to lie its bonnet and look at its pocket." " And what did Dora do?" said the mother. "Think carefully, dear, and tell me everything exactly." Dora wrinkled her brow to bring it all back. She had the merit of exceeding conscientiousness.

" I asked her to spell ' phthisis' and ' embarrassment' and she wouldn't." she said; " and 1 told her a lot of funny things I used to say when I was young, and sho didn't laugh a bit; and I told her that story father told you yesterday about Sir. Barton going about like a ravening lion trying to find a wealthy widow to devour." Mother groaned. Mrs. Mayhon herself was a wealthy widow, and had shown signs of willingness to bo devoured by that particular lion.

"Anything else?" she asked. Dora wrinkled her brow again. "I did tell her I thought sho was just a little bit too old to wear pink roses in her bonnet," she answered. " Perhaps she didn't like that, mamma. Still sho is too old; I've heard father say so, and someone ought to tell her."

That was it— keynote to her failing. Dora burned to reform tho world, and was surprised when it objected and showed a preference for going on in its old bad way. Of course her mother talked to her at length, and tried to show her the errors.of her ways; and, of course, Dora saw the error, and was deeply sorry, and promised amendment. But equally, of course, sho forgot everything about it, and was entirely objectionable to the very next visitor. Her father and mother seemed to spend half their time in snubbing her, but, as tho former used to say, hopeless in his tone, she was absolutely " unsnubbablc." Up she used to bounce, like a cork, aftei a minute's -.'epression; all they could do was to trust that with (ho wisdom of coming years she might grow out of it. At present she was engrossed with the i.erculcan task of trying to leach her mother the proper management of infants. A spinster sister of her father's had left a book on this art at the house, and begged that it should bo read and followed. But mother only smiled and put it away; she seemed to fancy that having managed to set six of them heathy and straight-limbed thus far on the road of life she could continue to do so without book wisdom.

But Dora found tho volume and studied it assiduously. "Never take a child up from his cradle," it said, " and walk him about. It is a most foolish and injurious system. It will do him no harm to cry, and ho will very soon find it is no use, and that lie may as well go to sleep. A child is never too young to bo taught this." Looking up at tho moonbeam-ladder Dora repeated this to herself, and then sighed despairingly. What was the use of all that book full of wisdom, while in the next room that slow tread of bare feet sounded, and the soothing song began at the first wail of broken sleep. Her father war, away from home at present for a fortnight: Dora resolved she would urgo him on his return to induce hor mother to read the book, since her own entreaties were unavailing.

" Shades of darkness close not, o'er lis, Leave our lonely bar!; awhile, While, we still behold before us Yonder dim and distant isle." On, on went the soft singing, on on tho bare, patient feet. Dora could bear it no longer; at last, she slipped out of bed and stole into her mother's room. "Let him cry," she said. "Oil, why ever don't you lot him, mother ? The book says tho very youngest child may ho taught to go to sleep by itself and thus save tho young mother a world of trouble." Mother found a touch of humour in the situation, oven though it was almost midnight and she was overnowered with sleep. Such a quaint elf the child looked, with her long hair plaited in two tight pigtails, her short nightgown, baro feet and gravely disapproving "Bui I'm not a young mother," mamma said, patting soothingly at babys restless shoulder. „ , „ "Won't you try to-night? Oh, please, said Dora, passing ovor tho frivolous remark, " put him down in the cradle by Tiny and just let him cry." , , "But Tiny is asleep: I don't want her to wako too," mother said, smiling. i( "Tiny eoukl learn, too, at the same lime, tho grave little teacher said. "You have no idea how much easier it will be for you, mamma; just put them down and lot them cry till they tiro of it." „ "I didn't treat you that way, mamma said, still amused, "nor Meta, nor Jimmie, nor Jack. Why should I begin to be a bpartan with those two wee ones ?" " Oh !" said Dora, flinging her nigtai s back impatiently, "surely, mamma, its better to turn over a new leaf than to keep on doing wrong just because you've started that wayMamma looked at the young wiseacrehelplessly, and baby seemed to scent the treason. Ho 3oubted himself up, and stretched kmJ elf out half-a-dozen times like a self-acting concertina, weeping shrilly the *»•«•••„... "There '" said mother annoyedly, mat is with you talking, Dora; and he was just *3fi»£m on a chair and looked W mutative. „ , ~ n'ii,«i. n n m "Tho book says, too," she said "thatinfant should be accustomed to bed while here is a noise. Never keep the house A ■ or say •h'sh' to all noises; will. sleep jut as readily through music and talking if only no is once got intc good habits. ■ ,ii. ,; Tiny evidently had not got into any such waisoworthy thines. for at this point she,

ttem?" • 3 tako an y notic « of either of ™& SS^ffliSu ° Ut ,° f , *• ns if *Lv i, u tll6m botll U P and down they, consented to shut their pretty W and they consented to shut their pretty lira and Dora Uy *, th , e lightfshtted'to Uora„ ho was look™ on despairingly. "and ■£? *1 W b, mcdiatel 7." *e said, rirl von 1 ° e ?,' ,at ft t,resome MtUo gin you do grow, Dora." By morning, however, the cork was freshly dZfrZ'-; Sh ?, lif t«lthothe™omZ ook it I 1'?, Mll on tho verandah, and thrV„l.. i "".""""ft whore the silver thread stayed motionless at 98 degrees-lower by several degrees, than other rooms in the

, l™ hsh , a rusllin t0 her mother in J. great state of excitement, "something will 2,1 m T' , mmm ' and that very quickly, The book says attention is all necessary to the due regulation of the temperature of the nursery. During the first few weeks of an infant's life it should be kept at between 65 and 70 degrees; our nursery is 98 degrees. • Mother was bathing Tiny, while the nursemaid hold the other twin in readiness for his clip, the perspiration was rolling off her „ "My dear, Doadie," she said, "that's an Lnglish book. I should prefer, myself, if our nursery wero between 65 and 70." Dora suggested cold water pipes being laid along tho walls. "Oh, how would it bo to have blocks of ice put there ? That would soon bring tho temperature down." Mother lifted Tiny out into the big towel. ' If you'll earn tho necessary money I'll nave lit done," she said; and oven Tiny showed her pretty littlo gums, as if in laughter at the idea.

Dora watched the toilets discontentedly. " The twins would bo far healthier if thoy woro clothes made of all-wool flannel," sho said. " The book says it is far more by— hygienic, and besides that, the young mother will bo far better enjoying freedom in tho open air than sitting stitching at elaborate tucks and gathers within doors." But the mother looked complacently at the dainty littlo garments in which she had always clothed her babies. "Thank goodness I am not a young mother," she said, popping a fascinating little frock over Tiny's head. Dora went away sighing. In the nursery Jimmio and Jack wero eating bread and butter on which some good-natured servant had thickly spread sugar. Dora made a quick divo at them. "Haven't you been told you are not to eat between meals, you bad little boys?" she said, snatching tho slices and flinging thorn out of tho open window beforo they realised what had happened. Tho bad little boys rose up to fight her. Jimmio thumped her hard on the back. Jack shut his eyes, doublod his fists, and ducked his head to attack hor. But she was more than twice their united ages and a wiry littlo thing. Sho shook thorn by tho shoulders as sho had once seen a child in the streot shaken; their poor littlo heads were agitated until thoy saw stars, and double doors and windows where there had only boon one. Then sho sal thorn down on tho floor and went away to look for fresh worlds to conquer. "The only way in the world to treat children !" sho said, commending herself hugely. " Show them yon won't bo trifled with. Now if they had begged hard mother would have let them eat that stuff. But after my lesson I don't think they will be in a hurry to cat between meals again." Tho vanquished babies sat on tho spot whereon thoy had been so roughly deposited. Thoy vied with each other who could weep the longest and loudest. Sometimes Jackie flung himself flat on his baok and added heol music to his wrathful outcry. Sometimes when Jimmio found his voice dying down to a mere sob he inflated Ills lungs afresh Mid yelled with now vigour. Then into the dull room like a burst of lovely sunsliino eamo Mela. Oh, llio sweet motherliness of the littlo face— happy, smiling eyes, tho tender mouth ! In her hand she carried tho maltreated bread and butter, from which sho had brushed much of tho garden soil that had clung 1.0 it. " Jimmio' isn't very bad," she said, beamingly, and sat down on the floor betweon them. "It fell on the grass with the sugar side up; but yours foil on Dora's garden, Jackie, and is a bit bad." Jackie looked at it anxiously; then at Jimmie's slice, which showed wonderfully olean, and had lost very little of its sugar. " Zal uzzer is mine," ho said, tho first temptation to a lie coming suddenly in his way. "Oh, no, Jackie, deal," Meta said, "you know it isn't. Jimmio always takes littlo bites all round his to mako it look pretty, and you always eat tho corners off first. Look, all tho comers havo gono off tho dirty piece." " Zat uzzer is mine," Jackie maintained, and struggled fur the possession of it. But Jimmio, for once, neglected the artistic effect of his slice, and went hurriedly to insert his teeth in it anywhere. Meta held his chubby hand a minute. "Poor littlo Jackio I" she said. "All his is dirty." Jimmio looked unwillingly on Ins younger brother. "I never frowed it out," ho said. " Doadie did; I dan't holp it dcttin' dirty." " /Cat uzzer is mine," repealed Jackie, with a forlorn sob. Jimmio grew excited. " You was zusl bitin' ze lastest torner oil when Doatlio tomed, wasn't ho, mitliio '!" lie cried. , „; , . " Oh, yes," said Mela. " Don't tell stories, Jackie, or mummio will cry-" Jackie's lips trembled, his hand still stretched out for the sugared niece. " Div s yours, Zimmie," ho said. Jimmio licked a very lovely bit of sugar oil and looked kindly at his less fortunate brother. Then ho stretched the slice invitingly out. " You tan have a bite," he said. | Meta was still busy with Jackio s slice. There was a good deal of earth still on it, thouali she picktd tho bits off persevering!}'. "Tate anuvver," said Jimmio, feeling a pleasurable glow of generosity at the quick brightening of his brother's doleful face. "I'll tell you," said Meta, with a sudden joyful thought, " lot's halve the dirty pieceit isn't very bad-and halve the clean, and 'tond the dirty pieco is meat and tho clean 18 "Oil lot's," said the little boys. And they had a merry feast after all, and the brown earth hurt tho digestion of neither of them. | [To be concluded To-morrow.]