MRS. MORIARTY ON EDUCATION.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XV, Issue 41, 3 February 1888, Page 5

MRS. MORIARTY ON EDUCATION.

I? 1 ?. 1101 see Tim Doolan for a day or two after that, for he was thinking, I suppose, of the pot-stick, But the boys seen him passine wuen I was out on Sunday evening, and they pulled him in, and he was sitting there when I come back. 4.v • A ° d so Tim Doolan. says I, the women oughtn't to swear to obey their husbands. 7 It's the driver swearing to obey the horse, says he. a-4. A nd F l? c did obey him ' sa y s L where would h e land but in the ditch ? And serve him right. Mrs. Moriarty, says he, don't be too hard on the men. What else do they deserve from me ? says I. Look at the boys itself the way they're growing up. J What's the matter with them? says he. Aren't they well enough? It isn t three minutes ago, says I, since I seen two bits of cm-ri-Miins that you'd think ought to be sucking their bottle, and they smoking away there at the corner. What's to become of the country when them grows up ? When I told them to take the pipes out of their months, it s the height of impudence I got for my trouble, says I. What did they say to you ma'am 1 says he. I wouldn't make little of myself by telling you; But such boys as that isn t worth rearing at all. It's drownded they ought to be like the young pups if it wasn't a sin, says I. " If there was no boys, ma'am, there'd be no men after a while, and then what would be done ? says he. If there aren't men in it that are men, says I, it would be better without them. Oh, Mrs. Moriarty, says he, don't be finding fault with the boys for taking tneir element. Sure it's trying to make men of themselves they are. like of it?™?!?? that WUI makS men ° f them> Tim Doolan ' or the Sure it's not old women you'd have them to be, cays he Is it old women not to smoke f Many's the one I seen with her ditdheen in her jaw. And not alone that, but I seen the old black gins, as they call them, over in Australia, doing the very same thine, say a 1. * b» Did you, then, ma'am ? cays he. I did so, says I, and not once nor twice, but many times. A pretty way to make men of themselves, says I, by doing what any old woman can do, let her be black or white. Oh, well, ma'am, they don't think of that, says he them™ make them thiDk ° f itj Sayß J> if * had the b ' rin & in g U P °* Mrs Moriarty, they say the boys is better now nor they were in them meß> BayS ° r> at &ny ratG> ther6lS b6tter Wayß o£ mana g in 8 Who says that 1 says I. It isn't stapping nor lashing them they do be now, says he but encom aging, them, and persuading them to do what is ri"ht And, signs by it, Bays I. A pretty lot they are . Persuading them, indeed , say s I. It's much they'll heed persuasion, v Well, ma'am, says he, sure it was dreadful the way they used to beat the children in old times: And where will you see such men and women as there was in old times ? says I. Who brought up the men that went round the world, and done all that was to be done ? Is it on persuasion they were reared 7 says I. I'm not saying it was, ma'am, says he. Tim Doolau, says I, all their nonsense isn't worth a pin Here's boys, yes, and girls too, that will talk to their fathars and mothers as if it was themselves that was rearing the family. Aye, and they think they know how to do that and everything else besides a great deal better. And its flattering and persuading, and telling them how good they are they're doing, says I. Sure its not a week, lince a chap come there to the window and broke it with a lump of stone, says I And

when I found out who he was, and went to tell hie mother, instead of giving me any satisfaction she had like to eat me. Is it my boy to break your window ? Sure you did'nt dear, says she. Oh, I never I mamma, says he, I never even seen it broke. It was her own boy done it. Th© child never raised his hand to do anything of the kind in his life, says she, and woulda't do it on no account. Didn't I see him ma'am, with the sight of my eyes, says I. I'm sure I don't know what sight you made use of, says she, but you had better change your spectacles for a pair that will show you the truth. And there was the boy standing forenenst me and grinning in my face all the time. That's nice bringing up for a boy, isn't it ? When he's took to the gallows, where ought his mother to be but along with him? Or when the devil gets hold of him, don't you think he ought to lay a claw on her too ? But, maybe, it's before the boy itself he'd get her, and if he does, who's to pity her ? And so I told her. Sure it's the way of the country, ma'am, says he. And is it because it's a bad way it oughtn't to be mended ? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tim Doolan, says I, for excusing such vagabonds. Half the mothera that's going should be put on the treadmill, for their destroying the children, and nothing else. And what about the fathers 1 says he. Ob, they're not much better says I. 1 thonght,ma'am says he, that as long as they were led by the wives they were all right: Och ! some wives hasn't much sense, says I. True for you, Mrs. Moriarty. Good night, ma'am, says he. Boys, says he, take care of yourselves. No fear, says Tom, we'll manage the old lady. Look, out for yourself, says Bill, we're right enough.