IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // i «?< <'^^ '^. €^ l^.r Vx 1.0 I.I 1.25 la iiiiM W 1112.2 lis ^ M IIIIM \A. 11 1.6 <9 fe. v^ ^^ /. ^<^ ^?> <$> ■V y /^ Photographic Sciences Corporation iV «■ ■'^ 4^ \ \ .> CHAPTEJi irr. DO THE FLOWEIIS LOVE ^ World made up of pairs— Fruit the ripened pistil— (Jod's way past finding out oj, CHAPTER IV. A BABY KITTY. A dream about grandma— Old pussy lazy— House for tie kitties— A talk with pussy— Arrival of the kitties 33 CHAPTER V. A BIRTHDAY PARTY. Gladys ehooses-A story of little colts— Gladys angry— (iirls laugh— Babies at parties— iMamnui clears up the difficulty —Mothers not acquainted with their little boys and girls 4H ifl IN'DKX TO CONTENTS. CIIAITKK VI. TICK NEW IIAFJV. I'Aor, A Tulk with coiiHiii Lillif - |{iil»y Ixmglit from i\w doctor — Ximsc'h Ht<»ry - |{iil»y gri'u \iii(lt'r a caldMigo li'af— (JladyH iiHlignant A silciit walk (Madya in tuars--No one truthful -Mamma explains 51 CHAPTER Vir. A IIKAI/niY CHILD. Talk with mothcrH A sickly child -Medicine — Coiddii't go Itait'foot '^luiclcil hy f<'('diMg sweetmeats — Child sinned against — Pictper clothing for infants — I'i'oper food — Bath- ing important (iirl as good as a hoy — Romping — Sin of early niai-riage 62 CHAPTEU VIII. A VISITOU. Ksthor expected— The arrival— Ksther and tea — Gladys' per- plexity — Su|)per not enjoyed— Cotlee and cake before retiring — Feverish sleep — A soothing hand — Bands of Hope Stimulants /5 CHAPTER IX. A CONFESSION. A sleepless night— The fruitless search — Intense thirst— Days of longing — Appetite concjuered — Hot water — Esther at home — A joke— Cup of tea spilled — A twentieth century temperance i)ledge 8.3 CHAPTER X. CHILDREX WHO VISIT. Cladys wants to visit — Mamma refuses — All girls not good — Bad habits— A little one misled — Sickness — The suflferer cured — ( lirls protected 90 I' AOR r»i INl)EX]^T()*(()\TK\TS. C'llAI'TKK \l. KHOM (illiUUHH) TO WOMAMIOOI). Man.iMH nut wrll (ilu.IyH s.viM|.alhi/,..s -r,„lfr.staii.ling tlu, pliysioul natun. I'stM of .liir,.n.nt organ, rvplaiiuMl Cliai.go at w.,mui.l,„,Ml MoiImmh' f,M)liHli fear |„j,„y tl.n.iigh igimmiir-c -Nrars tu locvor-Do nmtluT.i l.,v.. tlifir cliildrcii V • •• XIII I'AOK m i2 CIIAITICK MI. A IIASTV WOIU). (JIadyH' (lisi-ovory-Friond in troul,!,. ^ Hy the nvei MlK 11 frigl.tt.ne.l -A fearful untruth-Hcii!, -Ic.l -Hot drink and foot-l)atl. -Koroo.l lionio-DoftorcaJlnd-Fow niontlm' sicluicMs—A young life gone | 04 CUAPTI^K Xill. TlIK HOVS WHO S.MoKK. Soen from tlie window-Sl.aring .igarL-ttes- Smoking 7i,dulv thought of-Ohservations in Clucago .s<,-h(,ol8-\>'omon the rescue f..ree--])octor8' opinions-What t'lrls can do -Woman's responsibility for evil-Strange things foun.l -Ant.-cigarette soeiety-Kllects of .igarette sn.oking 111 CHAPTKIi XIV. A XAMKf.ESS CHIM). Strange staten.eutat school -(J jadys I>u/./.led-Ma,nnuvs(,ught -Sewn.g aside-More queer questions -Home knowledire not abused -Digested and indigested truth-Why every thing must have a papa and mamma- Life germ in flowers and fruits-Bird life-An immortal soul-i'arents' debt to the child-(;od\s creative plan ; so beautiful, so per- fect-S.n leaves a scar-The world's injustice-(Jo.rs goodness J'X) w XIV INDEX TO CONTENTS. PAGE 134 CHAPTER XV. FROM BOYHOOD TO MANHOOD. A talk with Hugh — Becoming a man — All the world not sweet and pure— A shocking revelation — Noble hoys — A sacred trust — In the image of God — Every organ for a special purpose — Sexual organs holy, Cod-given — Laws concerning them — Penalty of broken law — lioys' tempta- tions — The thought pure — Body obeys the mind CHAPTER XVI. DISAPPOINTMENT. Baby grown — A shadow approaching — (iladys growing pale — An imperfect lesson — iSickness or health — Body a soul- propelled machine — Half invalid a second-hand machine — Over-study the mischief maker — Wish to be a man — Fought out alone — A great struggle — Health necessary for usefulness — Victory — Dropped out of line — Books locked away — Year of rest and out-door exercise — Health restored 142 CHAPTER XVII. SUICIDE. A newspaper item — A seventeentli century dude — An actor dead — Murder or suicide— Fashion's victims— Steel band- ages — No figure at all — Nearly all women deformed — Corset lovers — Acting like heathen — Women don't know tight clothing — Corset taken off — Backache— Recovery — Corset cause of weakness and deterioration of health — History, mystery, and injuries of the corset — Tight lacing — Irritable temper — Bones twisted and deformed 15"2 CHAPTER XVIII. HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. Home the life of the nation — Beauty, good health, good tem- per, good manners — Kind to the body — ^Proper dress — Every organ relieved of pressure — Lungs free — Blood filled with oxygen — Cartilages hardened — Health waists — Loose bands — Tight shoes — Corns — Comfort 167 tK INDEX TO CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIX. A PRETTY COMPLEXION. Blackheads — Wrinkles — Diet — Waste and repair — Food to rebuild — Nutritious and non-irritating food — Pickles and spices— Fevei'ish condition of the stomach— Moral courage — Intemperance — Headache and nervousness — Care at the menstrual period — Kest XV PAGE 177 CHAPTER XX. BEAUTY. Beauty of body— Beauty of character — Beauty of action — Light and love the same — Sun attracts l)y light — Nature of love — Beautiful at home — Choose books carefully — Wholesome reading — Healthy mind — Courtesy— Love in trifles — Introductions — Street etiquette— Slangy words — All nature lovely — Human form created beautiful — Dress harmonize with nature — Letter-writing — Invitations — Applications — Recommendations — Etiquette of calls — Practical lules on table manners 184 CHAPTER XXI. HOW TO KEEP YOUNG. Don't wrinkle — Face bathing — Fretting — Peevish complaints — Fresh air — Sleeping rooms — (Tymnastic exercises — Stand properlj' — Sitting position — Walking — Freedom of motion — Breathing — Breath of the infinite — Chest expan- sion — Physical amusements — Long breaths — Rules for breathing — Breathing exercises — Sleep— Early to bed- Popular prejudice — Drafts — How to induce sleep 201 CHAPTER XXII. SUNLIGHT. The doctor's story — (iod's good remedy — Children and sun- shine — The nursery — Roses in the dark— Sickly plants — — Green blinds— Sun's rays — Currents of iron— Iron pills 215 XVI INDEX TO CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIII. ItlNC GAMES AND FROLICS FOR CHILDREN'S PAR'J'IES. PAGE Parlies a nuisance — Play with the chihlren — Mud pies — Simple games — (lame of flowers — London Bridge — Fox — Jingle bells— Fun with peanuts — Children's march — A (|uotation hunt — Cross ijt!t I \ ' I's Growin' to be a Man "New Biedie in the Nest" " Hk Gave it to Me as a Pledge " "Gladys Gray."' I Answered PROMm.v - " Mamma Told Me About You " Bird's Nest and E(;gs -...." " Where Did Your Papa Get It ? " " Where Did the Baby Come From ' - Chums in Combat ..... Feeding the Chickens - . . . Giving His Horse a Drink - . ' . " Innocence - . . . _ The Lungs and Heart of a Cigarette Smoker -' Ihe Lungs and He.\rt in Health - Section of Diseased Lung of a Cigarette Smoker -" ll^V^r. ^"""'^"'^"^ ""' ^^'^'^^ «*^ ■^^- KxcKss.vK Smoker Waiting for a Ride .... The Dude of the Seventeenth Century Hope ..... The Corset in the Si.xteenth Century Egyptian Corset ..... Stekl Corset Worn in Catherine's Time - " Fashion's Devotees .... The Natural Waist .... The Effects of Lacing A Natural Figure .... "The Beautiful is Always the Free" - Corset in the time of Elizabeth of England Corset in the time of Eli/aheth ,.k En.jland - The Nursery .... Song Without Words ... A Knight of the Bath ... I'AliE - 23 - 27 - 35 41 48 r)3 - fii (i!) - 73 85 !>7 113 113 11!) 121 131 144 153 157 1(53 164 J 64 170 172 172 179 190 204 208 217 22(j 240 "Come, let us live with our children!" Earnestly, holily live, Learning ourselves the sweet lessons That to the children we give. Fresh from the kingdom of heaven Into this earth-life they come, Not to abide — we must guide them Back to the heavenly home. "Come, let us live with our children!" Leading them tenderly on Into the fields that God's love-light Ever shines brightly upon. Then when our feet grow too weary . For the safe guidance of youth. We shall be led, like the children, To Him who is goodness and truth. —Selected. i W\ QVEllli OUIiSTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. CHAPTER I. A rJOOD-HYE. " C KE, sweetheart, see, grandma is comin?." And ^ my little th.-ee-yea.-old darling laughed and clapped her hands as the dear silver-haired ;„ an of eighty walked slowly toward us She was my fathers mother, and the only mother I had ever known. She sat down on the step before us, he. face more serene even than usual. She looked at ine hen at iny baby, and then around on the i.eantitul sunset scene. The leaves were just bur.st- .ns anew on the trees and the flowers shooting up heir heads. Tlie sky was clear, the birds lere twittering, and I, with my baby in my arms and my mother at my knee, was so happy that I felt as if tins were almost heaven itself. She turned to me again in a' moment, and said ■ Keta, you were a happy little girl, and you are now a happy woman ; and I hope that in your happi- ZirZI "1>t '"" '""'='> you owe to tit sweet little daiio-litoi' wlmm Pr>ri i, , ^ <^fu^iiti.i w noin (jou lias given you - 10 20 QUEEU QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. I clasped my laughinf^. dancing baby closer to me, and kissed her fervently two or three times. " My baby will be all right," I replied, " for the same dear, wise mother who guided me will help me guide my little one. Won't she, sweetheart ? " My bal)y laughed and threw her arms around grandma's neck, crying : " Yes, gi-andma teach baby everysing." The dear mother's face became very solenni, and taking my hands in hers she looked into my face witli such intense earnestness that I almost faltered l)eneath it. " Reta," she said, " grandma cannot always live, and you will have that baby to teach yourself. Will you remember how I have taught you ? Will you remember how much a mother owes to her child ? That little mind is soon going to begin to question, and who will answer those questions ? If that young intellect blossoms and ripens under the Heavenly Father's hand, it l.s going to know. " You understand me, Reta. There are things never taught in the school room, seldom taught in books, but about which young minds are curious ; and it is the mother's place to satisfy this curiosity. Will you remember, my daughter, that you never learned in the playground, or on the street from vulgar tongues those things which should come pure and simple from the mother's lips ? Will you remember, too, my child, that as 3'ou neared womanhood you were not left in ignorance of your being ; that you did not endure years of suffering because of my neglect ? Will you ?■: A GiH)D-liYE. 21 T' remember that I always had your confidence, and that whenever you wished to Ivnow any of those secrets which children try to gather from older ones, you came straight to me with it, and I told you in a way that did not leave a stain upon your pure young mind ? " It is a high and precious privilege to raise children, to send them fortli into the world healthy, happy men and women, with minds free from sullying thoughts, the seeds of which have been dropped by vulgar tongues in early childhood, because a mother thouglit she couldn't tell them those things which the child is hound to learn from some source or other." My eyes were filled with tears. I put my arms around her neck and pressed my face to hers. " My dear, dear mother," I said, " I know how good, liow faithful you have been to me. May God give me grace and wisdom to be as good to my own ! " " He will, Reta, He w^ill ! " And brushing back the curls from my face she looked at me with a serene, heavenly expression which never faded from my memory. " And when grandma is gone, Reta, you will remember her teaching even better than you do now." She left us on the steps and went into the house, and when an hour later we found her in her room her spirit had gone to be w^ith God. I shall draw a curtain over that last, sad scene. I felt that my heart was broken, and that I could never raise my child without her help. But when the silent form had gone forever her teaching still remained. Our lives had been so lived within each other that no hour passed which did not bring back some word of hers. CHAPTER II. A HIUDS XEST, ,. 1 T was Hprnio- ji<;aiii ; a year had passed since "aiii as I thouii'lit of the tear-stained face of her father as he came to see me that afternoon so long ago. " Your papa went home that day, Gladys, and his mamma punished him for being so wicked as to rob It "He gave it to me as a pledge." I 28 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. U| ■• the poor bird of her baby birdies. Slie told him liow very wrong it was, and he felt so bad that he asked her if he niifrht come over and tell me about it. We lived side by side, and always played together. She let him come, and with tears in his eyes he told me how naughty he had been, and asked me to forgive him. Then he gave me the nest with its two little eggs to keep forever, as a pledge that he would not be so cruel again." " So my papa was naught}^ once ! " she said, sai a half pleased, half surprised look swept over her face. " Yes, darling — naughty once." With a smile in her eyes, she danced out of the room, and I could fancy her saying to herself, " when I'm naughty again I'll tell papa he was nanghty once." i» I CHAPTER III. H DO THE FLOWEKS LOVE? OW my baby loves flowers ! " I said, leanincr over her as she stood in tlie garden watch"^ ing the flowers. She had been standing tliere gazing at tlieni with a very tlioughtful face for several minutes befoi-e I joined lier. A little humming-bird, and a few honey- bees were sipping the sweet from flower to flower. " Mamma," she said, " I've just been watching the flowers and wondering whether they loved "'each other. There are so many of them, and they are so pretty tliat it seems to me they must know some- thing about each other." Just at that moment the little humming-bird darted away from the flower before her face and up into the sky. She gave a merry little laugh as her eyes followed it ; then she turned to me (piickly as a new thought came into her mind. " Are there mamma flowers and pai)a flowers, just like there are mannna birds and papa birds ? Or is it only little things that talk and sing who have papas and manimav ? " " Gladys," I replied, " the dear Father in lieaven has made this world beautifully and wonderfully 29 30 QUEER QUEStlOXS QtJAINtLV ANSWERED. and in a sense even the flowers linve a papa and manniia. "You remember last ni(^ht when jtapa was readino- to you of all the living creatures goino- into the ark, how God had Noah put them all in by ])airs, the male and the female, that is, the papa and the mamma; not one bird or one beast went in without his mate. When (jod first made the wori<«, after He iiad made the sun and moon and the lovely bright stars ; the trees, the grass, the birds and the flowers ; the lakes, the rivers, the mountains, an, siiiiliiiL;- down at liei'. She opened hei' eyes wide, then cried <(ui('kly : "Oh, niaiiinia, iiiainiiia. they ciinie 1 I can see it sniilino- out ol' your eyes." " ^'es, s\Veetlieai"t, tliey came," 1 re})lied, as she tlnvw liei' ai'iiis around my neck and kissecl me rapturously. "And did papa see them ;* " slie went on excitedly. " And is th(! old ])ussy awful ^lad : and did she kiss thuni just us she kisses me :' " Unable to restrain liersell' lon<;'er she spi'an<4- fVom my arms, and bounded lightly down the stairs. When 1 iVnnid her she was sitting* on the iloor, the bi^ pussy under her arm, and the three baby kitties inker lap. Her face was radiant with smiles, and she was savnio' : "You arc the sweetest little kitties that ever lived I have waited for vou for sueli a (.reat Ion*!- while, too, for mamma told me you w-i-j comino-. Aren't you ." J ■- my "Tliey said ■yes; ,„ai,„„a," slie e.ied. laUKhinsly as she ran back up-stairs to got ,lre.sse,l. It n f \ I aril my CHAPTER V A 15IRTHDAY ]>ARTV. ONE al'ternoon, during the summer, a little girl called, and wanted C^ladys to come to her birthday party. She was a few years older than Gladys, and neai'ly all the girls invited were older, too. At first I was about to refuse, but she bepfired too of me so earnestly to let hei* come and have some fun with the rest of the girls, that 1 hardly knew what to do. I still dreaded having Gladys thrown into a promiscuous crowd, of girls, for I knew only too well the dangers such crowds involved. Not that I ever dreamed that all little girls were naughty ; but I knew it was hard to find a single crowd in which there would not be at least one who, from false train- ing, or unfavorable surroundings, had had her mind stored with wrong thoughts. I knew, too, that those curious young mir \s ,reie usually just as eager to listen as the otl:er ,vas eager to tell. But, after thinking over i: . ^r a few minutes, I said: "1 have never yi:t allowed Gladys to go out to any gathering without me, but this time I am o-ointr to leave it witli her to decide. If she wishes to go she may." The great blue eyes spoke volumes. Slie took my hand in hers and laid her Hieek against, iu as she said pleadingly : 4;: 9 mmmmmmm 44 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. ' 1 I " \'()U won't l)u sorry if I go, iiiainin;i, will you ! J will be just as *^"ood, us good." " Yon may go, darling," I answered, kissing her. The day of the party came. How eager and expectant she was I She was going to a real party. She looked like a fairy, indeed, as slie started oft' in lier snowy dress, her cheeks ahnost as pink as her sash, and her curls fallinj'" about her smilin<»: face. She waved lier dear little liand to me as she went down the street, and I closed the door wondering how it would turn out. That night as I was about to hiy her in her little bed, she chisped her arms around my neck, saying: " Wait a minute, mamma, I want to have a little talk with you." We sat down together. Slie looked very serious, and, I thought, a little sad. " Mannna," she continued, " I told you most all about the party, what lovely presents she got, what games we played, and all about the grand supper she gave us ; but there was one thing I didn't tell you." Her eyelids drooped for a moment : then she looked u}) at me half shyly as she went on : " There was one girl there, I guess she must be a nice girl, for they all seemed to like her best ; when tliey saw her coming they all ran to meet her, and most of them wanted to stay by her all the time. She was older than the rest of us, and tliey told me when she came in that she knew a whole lot of things none of tlie rest of us knew. They said she would tell us some irrcat stories if we coaxed her." ' A BIRTHDAY PARTY. 45 " What (lid you think of her, darHng ? " I said. Slie placed her soft Httle hands on my clieeks : " I di(hi't like her a bit, niamnia. I believe she is nauf^-hty, even if all the girls did like her so well. She said a lot of naughty words ; and when she was telling us stories she talked in a whisper, and acted as if she was afraid some one would hear her. The girls all got up in Hazel's play-room and sat on the floor around her. I can't remenil)er all she said, but I know she told some things which cannot be true. I know^, too, that it was not nice for her to tell it. She said her father liad a farm away out in the country, and it had a wonderful woods in it. She said that liere and there all over the woods there were great caves, which had been there for thousands of years, and that they were full of little colts. When- ever a man wanted a little colt he sent to her father for it, and her father took it to him : and he i>:ot money for it, so that he was getting very rich. "1 asked her how the little colts got in the caves: .It"' she said there were ponds in the centre of the CHVj;;^ and the colts hatched in the w^ater, and came \ I the top. They climbed up on the bank to get dry, .u"i tb:?n her father caught them. ' When she said that the girls all looked as if they thought it was wonderful, and asked her if many people knew about it. She said 'no,' that her father never told anybody, and that she w'ouldn't have known it only she heard him talking about it one day with her brother. She said he would be very angry if he i new she had heard it, so they must nevei- breathe it to a living soul." M 4G QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. I !' lllil " What did you say to that, Gladys ?" I asked. She blushed. " You won't be cross at uie, mamma, will you ? But I was so angry at her I said : 'You are a nasty, bad girl 1 I don't believe that story at all. I'm going to ask mamma just as soon as I get home if that is the way little colts grow ! ' "Then the girls all laughed at me and said I was silly, and that it would be very mean of me to tell when she had said we must not. But the big girl frowned at me and i -ked as if she woald like to slap me, as she said : "' You crazy kid, youi • other doesn't know any- thing more about where colts come from than you do. How can anybody know when only my father has the woods ?' " I got up and stamped my foot at her. 'I don't believe the colts ever came out of your woods,' I cried, 'and I'm going to ask mamma to night, for she knows, and she will tell me.' Then I ran down stairs and wouldn't listen to her any longer. But I heard her sav as I went : " ' I don't see why people send babies to parties. Fancy asking her mother ! As if her mother v\ ould tell her ! I used to ask my mother lots of things, where colts and kittens and babies and everytliing came from, but she never told me. She would pre- tend she didn't hear me, or tell me to run off and not bother her. 1 learned what I know by listening and watching and reading. But I'll not tell her another thing if she never learns. So there ! ' "Then I heard the others say, ' never mind, she is gone now. Tell us some more.' A BIRTHDAY PARTY. 47 " When we were coining home one of the ^irls said to me, * Ha, ha, Gladys, you missed it I She told us a whole lot of things after you left — thinf^s I bet you will never find out for a good long time.' "'Are you going to ask your maunna if it is all true ?' " I said. " Then they all laughed at me and asked me how old I was ; and if I thought they didn't know any more than I did. They said mothers never talked about such things to their children, and tliat they would not for anything tell her what they had heard." As I looked into my little daughter's confiding face my eyes filled with tears. How sad to think of a mother whose daughter could not trust her. How sad to think of a dear young girl, that tenderest of all God's creatures, growing up without a mother's guid- ance. I felt at that moment that it would break my heart if this little daughter of mine would not un- burden to me her every trouble. " Dearest," I said, " mamma will make that matter all clear to you. You felt sure from what you already knew of God's great plan of creation that a little colt never came into the world in that way. There are creatures bred in the water, but not horses " She smiled brightl}". " Yes, I know, little fishes get hatched in the water, don't they ^ " " Yes, dear, and when mannua cleaned the fish to- day you remember what a lot of little eggs we found in them. You did not forget, did you, that I said tlie fish laid those eggs and they were hatched into little fishes, which grew big in the water. I 4cS QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. '■ Certain of tlio creatures which God has made are <(iveii their yo'in^r by the hatching of the eggs which they have hiid. Among these are fish, all kinds of birds and fowl ; the iiies which bother mamma so much in the summer time, and all kinds of insects. • I !¥;■ n Then there is the other part of God's creatures in whose bodies He has formed a sort of cradle home, wluM-e their young ones live for awhile till they grow large enough to liNe here. Then that home opens and they are l)orn into the world, as the little kitties were. The larger animals all have their little ones in that way." A HIHTHDAV I'AIITV. 49 h s. Gladys clapped her hands to<>;ether. " And tliat is the way little colts come, isn't it, niauinia ? I knew that nani^hty gii'l told a story ; she doesn't know any- tliinn: about it, does she ?" " Not very niucli, dear. But do you know why- she doesn't know ? " The smile faded from her face. " Because nobody tells her, I suppose. All those little ^irls said they wouldn't for any thino; ask their mammas where those little colts came from. And if they didn't find out the truth from their mammas where could the} <;et it ? I guess nobody else would tell them. " At first I thought I wouldn't tell you till moin- ing ; but when you knelt downi and asked God to keep us true to each other ; that I might never keej) anything back from you, but that I would always remember you were not only my mother but the best friend I w^ould ever have in this world : and you prayed that my mind might not have in it any wrong or false thoughts, or anything which Jesus could not bless ; then I felt that I couldn't rest till I had told you all about to-day's talk at the party." I drew the little face neanT to mine, and my tears fell on her cheek. " Mannna," she said softly, " perhaps some mammas have so many little boys and girls that the}'' don't get time to get ac(|uainted with them, and have nice long- talks like we do." " Perhaps so, darling," I replied. I tucked her in her little bed, and left the room wondering how much truth there might be in her last words. 50 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. I Stood by tlie window thinking it over for a few minutes, then I said slowly : "I would manage somehow. I would put fewer nils on the little dresses. I wouhl iron fewer wldto sk.rts. My iioor might not be so spotless ; the pantry shelves might not be so well filled, hnf / ,.../,; /,, ^ confidante of mi/ r/uMrnL" i ■ CHAPTER VI. THE NEW BAIiV. i. 1^ 11 o NE week more and scliool would be^iii. But there was one problem yet whicli must be explained before I could let my little one mingle in the school ground with other children. It was a question which had not yet seemed to cross her mind, but I knew that it soon must, as it always does chil- dren of her age, and often younger. It was that puzzling question which has been asked somewhere, by someone, day after day since the world began, namely, " Where did the baby come from ? " I had never yet taken her to see a new-born babe ; but her auntie now had a little one about a week old, and I took her w^th me to see it. As we entered the gate, I said, " Gladys, auntie has a little baby boy which you have never seen before." That was all that was said about it. I left her in the sitting-room with the nurse who sat by the cradle where the baby lay sleeping, and I went to see her auntie. In a few minutes her little cousin came dancing into the room. They at once began discus- sing the new baby brother; and as the nurse was called into the bed -room to my sister-in-law, the children were left alone. From where I sat I could see them plainly. 4 61 52 (.njKKii grrsTioNs (,)I'ainti,v a\s\vf:i{i:i). " It is the nicest l)<'il)y that ever whs in tlie worhl," said ('(Hisin Lillie, as slie turned down tlie blanket a litthi tliat (dadys iiii;;ht <;'<'t a better view of it. " How do you know it is :*" asked Gladys teasin^ly. "How do 1 know:*" returned Lillie ((uite indif^- nantly. " Why 1 do you suppose we would get a baby that wasn't the nicest there is;* Papa bought it; he told me he did. And he said when he bu^'s anything he alwa^'s gets the best." Glade's took the little hand in hers, and tenderly touched the tiny fingers. She had never seen any- thing like it before. Her face was a study of wonder and admiration. "It is most as little as my doll," she said softly. Then she leaned her face closer and closer over it till her lips touched its forehead. " I wish we had one at our place, too," she continued. " I would love it, oh, so nnich !" After a moment's thoughtful silence her face bi'ightened, and she (piickly said: " Where did your papa get it ( ^Faybe we can get one, too." "From the doctor," replied Lillie promptly. "He came here one morning early, before 1 was up, and papa said he had a valise full of them. Papa bought the best one he had, so if you do get one it won't be as nice as this one." A little doubtful look swept over Gladys' face when Lillie said the doctor had ' a valise full of them." But in the next moment it passed away ; for why should she doubt either her uncle's or her cousin's word ^ m% ■I' f torn • V M tti '■Where (lid your papa get if.'" r r 64 (^rEKIl (jrESTFONS (JUAINTI.V AXSWKHIM). (jhidys laid Ik'I- liand lovin^^Iy on tlic l)ul)y'.s Torn lu'ud iiLOim. " How Ion;;' liavo you had it, Lillit; :* " "Oh, about a week. 'I'lio (h)ctor l)i'ounlit it to us one Suiwhiy iiioi'uiujj. ' I knew from luy litth' dau;4htt'i''.s face tliat slic \vas tryinf( to solvo a pi'obhMu in Iwr own mind. Finally sho said very seriously : " Where did tlie doctor i^ct it, Lillie ;* " This WHS too much for Lillie She shook her hea<], tlien laut^h(' mid tlw; l»al)i<'H ;^r<)W undor tlu' ('iil)l)ji<^'(' leaves. Wlicn iiMvl)()dv wants one lie sells it to tln'iii." I conid see the aii'M'V tcais in (Jladvs' eyes. "Do you tliiiik," slie refilicd, " tliat (Jod would let dcai', sweet, little l)al)ies liki! this live out on the cold j^round under hard old cal)l)}i;^'o leaves, when; the rain could pour on them, and the do<^^s hite them, or the cats scratch tlieii' or the cows eat thcni up :* " She turnci to tli<' l)al)y a;4;iin ; her face ^rew softrr ; and on a suddm impulse sin: kissed it so (piickly, and so passionately, tliat it awoke with a scream. We stayed hut a few minutes lon<,^er, and all the way liome (lladys nt.'ver spoke a word. When we ii'ot inside aave me at once a kiss. Where did you y'et this pn^tty ear ? Ood s[)oke, and it came out to hear. Where did you get those arms and liands ? Love made itself into hooks and bands. Feet, whence did you come, you darling things :* From the same box as the cherub's wings. How did they all come to be just you ? God thought of me, and so I grew. But how did you come to us you dear .' God thought of you, and so I am here. — Geouge Macdoxald. ) 1 SWWBH" umssmi0 X s^sJ S iSWiiS SS S l r J 1 t "Where did the ltal>v ciniie from".' f 1' #1 Bi'f CHAPTER VII. A HEALTHY CHILD. I T fl was a ciorioiis summer lay. A little m' oup of mothers sat under tlie shade of a great tree near the shore. A few rods fi'om us a group of happy children were playing in the sand. " Well, I cannot understand it, Mrs. Gray, I cannot: wdiat ever keeps my little girl so delicate while yours is so strong? If I liad a great family of children I might think it was because I hadn't time to care for her. But I have only the same as you. Now, I am sure no mother ever took more care of a child than I take of mine. I do everything anyone ever suggests, and she is never without medicine ; and I am sure I am always faithful to give it just as the doctor pre- scribes : but in spite of everything I can do she remains weak and delicate." At that moment tlie child appeared on the scene. " Wh}^ child 1 " exclaimed her mother, " look at your white dress that I nearly killed myself ironing- yesterday. Now, do sit down here by me and be still for a little while. You won't be tit to go home if 3'ou play around much longer.." The child sat still for a few minutes, and then said: "Oh mamma, do let me take oft" my shoes. All the rest of the girls are wading in the water." G2 I A HEALTHY CHILD. 6d "Take oli' your shoos ! Why, my dear cliilcl, do you want to be sickT' Then turninor to us slie said, "I can never let her ^o hare-footed. She would have a cold in half an hour. Lay your head down here on nianima's lap and have a little nap," she continued, addressinjj^ the child. "I don't want to have a nap," exclaimed the child peevishly. "I want to take my shoes oft' and play in the water." " Well, you cannot, my dear, so 3'ou may as well keep (juiet. ' She did so for a few minutes, then said, more fret- fully than before : "Mamma, I'm hungry. Can't I have a piece?" 'Oh, yes. Do run ofi' and don't bother me. The basket is there under the tree ; but don't get pie and cake all over your dress, and dont go on the beach, for the water spoils your shoes." The child ran off", got a large piece of rich chocolate cake, and sat down to eat it. My soul was filled with indignation. Had Mrs. Devon been my dearest friend, and it had been at the risk of losing her friendship forever, I think I should have spoken just as plainly as I did. "Mrs. Devon" I said, "you are sinning against that child. You wonder vvh}^ my little girl is healthy and yours delicate ; shall I tell you why? I verily believe that you have made your child what she is through vainly striving to make her healthy. I am going to give you just a little sketch of the treatment Gladys has received, and then see if you wonder that I have such a perfectly healthy child. I I \ G4 QUEER (QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. "She Wcis born the first of February. My first tliou;^ht was for her clothing. It was light, soft, and pcrfcrflij loose. The soft flannel band was discarded entirely at the end of the second week. If tight bands injure grown people, how nnicli more must they torture poor little infants. Her dresses were all made ' Mother Hubbard,' and only about twelve inches be- low her feet. I put on her first a soft, long-sleeved woolen shirt. Next over this a long-.sleeved flannel skirt, made to hang from the neck like a slip, for the delicate vital or^rans of the little body must not be bound up with bands: tlien a flannel skirt made as the otlier, only without sleeves. Over these was put her loose dress. No cruel 'pinning blanket' was ever piled around her tiny feet, so that she could not toss her little legs without tiring herself out; but instead, long cashmere stockings were put on her from the first. These were pinned to the diapers, and the little feet were free to kick. The diapers, too, were always pinned as loosely as possible. "'i'hat was my little daughter's winter clothing When it became warm in the spring, I removed the tlannel skirt with the sleeves, leaving on the slnrt and skirt without sleeves. When it became intensely warm, the shirt was taken off", leaving on only the flannel slip with sleeves. Now, this is the proper and approved method of dressing an infant, and if they were all thus dressed, there would be fewer crying, sickly babies. "My next thought was for her food. Many children liave their stomachs ruined befoi'e they are weaned. 1 ! I I ■ I / A HEALTH V CHILI). 05 Every time they cry tliey are fed. It is such an easy, hizy way of silencing them. Tliey are fed at any time, and in many cases, anythinf^ ; and as an in- evitable consetjuence tliey are troubled with indi- irestion and tliarrhea. It seems bad enoujih for an adult to suiter from indigestion as a conse(|uence of his ffluttonv, but does it not seem criminal that an infant shall thus be made to suffer ^ The first two months of her life, I fed her every two hours during the day, and two or three times during the night, but never oftener. At three months I began feeding her every three hours instead of two. After five months I never fed her during the night. She would sleep the whole night through without waking. It is from over-feeding, instead of want of it that makes so many children nervous and wakeful at nights. She always slept alone — sleeping with others often makes children uncomfortable and restless. Then, too, I was always careful to give her a little cold water every day. Vomiting and constipation are often caused from want of a little cold water daily. If a baby is fed on cow's milk, the milk should be diluted with about one third sweetened water. " For two years I never allowed her to come to the table at all, or use such food as grown persons do. Her chief diet was milk, wheat-bread and milk, germ wheat and oatmeal ; now and then a soft boiled egg, but the chief part was purely milk. And thus was laid the foundation for a strong, healthy stomach. " Why, do you know that the French goverinnent has passed a law forbidding any one, parents or 00 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAIXTI.V AXSWEUEl). others, to fi^ivo solid food of any kind to a cliild under one year of a<]fe, unless by special prescription of a physician ? The char. f V ' V »:1h • 1 1 1 '. 74 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. twenty marry and liope to be well ? Many of them give to the world a number of sickly, puny children who either die while babies, or grow up to swell the number of sufl'ei'ing beings who have barely vitality enough to sustain life, who haven't physical strength enough to resist temptation, to be strong morally, and lience the throng of criminals is added to more and more. We cannot separate the physical and the moral, and as we cannot, I believe it is a sin for a young girl to marry. Let her have somewhere near the first twenty- five years of her life in which to become strong in botly and mind, and refined and noble in spirit, so that when she does become a wife, a mother, she may be able to fill that sacred place as God would have her fill it." I paused. There were tenvs in Mrs. Devon's ej-es. She extended her hand, and pressed mine in hers without saying a word. l- CHAPTER VIII. A VISITOR. A NOTHER year had rolled by— a year full of -^^- childish joys and disappointments and new ambitions for Gladys. She liad learned fast at school, and in every way her mind has opened and grown, but she still seemed only my baby. As that first j^ear of school was about to close, an unexpected letter came from an old and dear friend of m}^ girlhood, statino^ that she was about to leave for Enoland on urgent business. She disliked taking her little girl with her, and asked if I would undertake the care of tlie child while she was o-one. The child was nine — just two years older than Glad3^s, and for a moment I thought, " No, I cannot take her. I do not know how she has been trained, or what she may be like." But my second thought was that it might do my little daughter good to have another child in the house with her for a month or so. And whatever my feelings in the matter might have been, I should have felt it my duty to take hei', any- way. It was, therefore, decided that Esther Lewis should come to us for the summer vacation. Gladys looked forward to her arrival witli great pleasure. To have a " really girl " in the house with her every day seemed the climax of enjoyment. ^•■- 76 QUEER QUESTIONS QUAINTLY ANSWERED. Ill ' i "I Not lono; afterward our little friend arrived. She was tall for her ai^e, rather slight, very pretty, and very nervous. Gladys looked at her for a moment, then seemed to step involuntarily nearer me. '^I'he flashinf^ black eyes, and the raven curls seemed in some way to repel her. I took their hands and joined them in mine. " Esther, Gladys," I said, "you are to be the best of friends. You are to be sisters for the summer." They looked at each other for a moment ; then, with a nervous impulsive movement, Esther leaned forward and gave Gladys a rousing kiss on the lips, saying : " I like you. We shall be friends." Gladys smiled and looked at me half (juestioningly. Then she put her little hands up to Esthers face, as she did so often with me, and said : " Won't you be cross with me at all / There is a a girl in our school with black, black eyes, ancl she is Just awful cross." Esther gave a short, nervous laugh, and drew back from Gladys' touch. " I'm not horrid, even if J am black," she returned. " I shall love you then," CJladys replied with a brio-ht smile. Just before supper Gladys came out to the kitchen where 1 was. She sat down and clasped her hands around her knees, as was her wont when troubled about anything. " Mannna," she said, " what are you going to give Esther to drink ^ " I smiled. " Why dear ? " • I, A VISITOR. 77 The troubled expression deepened on Gladys' face. " Because she drinks tea ; she told me so." Gladys had never yet seen tea or coH'ee on our table. All our friends who were intimate enough to dine with us held the same opinion that we did with regard to those stimulants. But here, to Gladys, was a knotty problem. Esther was her guest, the daughter of her mother's old and dear friend — and Esther liked tea, and coffee, too, and she liked them strong, and she liked them eveiy meal. " What do you think we ought to do about it, my dear ? " She shook her head slowly. " Mamma, I do not know what to do. You cannot think how she loves tea. I never knew anyone could care for it so much." " It didn't take my daughter long to discover that, did it ? " I answered, laughing. " Oh, I didn't ask her, mannna. But there was a little paper on my dressing-table about tea and coffee, and when I was showing her my room she picked it up and read a few lines. Her eyes snapped, and she said impatiently : " ' Why do people write such silly things :* I couldn't live without tea, and I don't believe anybody could. Why, if I didn't have tea I couldn't work, I couldn't study ; I would get so nervous and cross mamma couldn't live with me. She lets me have it between meals for medicine. Do burn that horrid old pa])er up, Gladys.' " And do you believe it, mamma, she threw it under the bed, saying : Ill l1 78 QUEER QUESTIOXS QUAINTLY AXSWEHED. « < riM That is the phice you bclonfj ? ' " Notliwitli.staiiding my daun-liter's shocked and troubled expression I laughed outrit^ht. "Oh, nianinia," she said reproachfully, "doesn't it seem awful to you ? What shall we do ? " " Shall we make her some tea ? " Gladys drew })ack startled. " Would we dare do that { " " Why not / " " J\Iannna," she said almost desperately, " are you lauj^hing at me : or don't you think Esther meant all she said :' She meant it, every word, and I am almost afiaid not to give her tea, for her eyes flashed so dread- fully. But— mannna — we — r((n not." The words came slowly, sadly, and with determina- tion, although there were tears in her eyes. " Shall we ask papa about it T' I suggested. "There is no need of asking papa about it if what you have taught me is true," she answered calmly. " There is poison in tea and cotl'ee : they make people nervous and cross : and they give people a longing for stronger stimulants. You have always taught nie that it was wrong to use them, Couid we then put on our table for anyone to use what we know injures, and what we believe is wrong to take ? " " Of course we could not, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear what 3'ou thought of it. I feel very sorry for poor little Esther. I presume she has drank it from babyhood, and her system has become so saturated with the dreadful poison that it will be I 1 1 A VISITOU. 79 very luiril, indeed, for lier to ^iv«^ it up. But people lia\'e given np tlieir toliucco and their wliiskey, and cannot a little girl give up her tea ;* ' " Ye.s, she can, nianinia; but I am al'raid she will be dreadfully cross. It scares me when she Hashes her great black eyes at me." I kissed the sweet little worried face. " We shall do what we can, my dear. Go back to Esther now, and nuunma will manage it somehow." The evening was very warm, and we had lemonade for supper. I noticed Esthei" looked anxiously to the head of the table several times, but no excuse was offered for not having her dearly loved drink. We all tried in every way to entertain her and make her feel at home, but the whole evening she seemed rest- less and excited. Glade's always went to bed at eight o'clock, and I asked her if she would like to retire then, too. " Go to bed, now ! " and she looked at me half surprised, half indignant. " Why, I never go to bed till ten or eleven." She paused a moment, then con- tinued : " But I would just as leave go to bed as stay up, if you aren't going to have any eofi'ee and cake or anything." " We never have cofl'ee and cake before going to bed," I replied quietly ; " but if you are hungry you may have a lunch." She walked to the window, tapped her fingers on the glass for a few minutes, then turned her flashing eyes ([uickly upon me. m ' 11 80 Ql'EEIl (QUESTIONS QUAIXTLV ANSWERED. " Would lUHinmu be on the vessel yet ;*" "Esther, mv dear," I said, "you must not think of <^ettini;' lonesome yet. Your mamma sails in the morning, and it will be two or three months bel'ore she returns.'' I placed some graham wafers and lemonade on the table, sayinn-: "We shall have a little lunch, dear; I am afraid you didn't enjoy your supper." She did not reply, l)ut partook of the refreshments ottered. When I kissed her ^ood-night there was such a hungry, lon^^ing look in her eyes that my heart ached for her. Poor, indul;ht noise in the room above me where Esther slept. I went upstairs and gently opened her door. She was tossing her head about on the pillow, and muttering in a feverish half audible manner. I ii :J I 'I I , 82 QUKKH (.H'KSTFON'S QUAIXTf-V AN'S\VKl{i:i). ^t'litly stroUcfl lici' rorchcud ; it scomed to Hootlic Ikt and soon hIic slrj)t (Hiictly. When I went down uii'ain 1 l'<)unill .lones. Slu; eaiuiot live without h(;r tea : h(^ cannot li\t' without his whisk(y'. I)()th are stimulants, hotli ai-e poisons, and hoth are injurin;^ them morally and physically. l>ill .lones fjot his love for stimulants at his mothei'"s table. She was the greatest tea-fiend I ever knew." I paused, and rested my head on the table. My husband smiled half sadly. " How many ])eople do you think will believe as you do i " "I do not know: l)ut there will be some, thank God ! There was a time when people thought they could hardly entertain without wines or li(juors, but now such a thin<; is frowned upon. And some sweet day, when people shall have become wiser and better than they are now, they will not otter their t;'uests tea and coffee." " I hope you may live to see that time," he said. " I won't do that," I replied, " but someone will !" i I ) \ l! ciiATTKi: rx. A CONFKSSIOX. F*oiir niontlis spud away. To-mornnv Ksther's motluT was coiiiiiij'' to take her away witli her. 'I'lic t\vili;j,ht was (leepciiinn-, l)ut \v»j did not li^^lit tlu' lamp, 'i'lie j^nrl.s sat on the lloor Ijol'oi'e the tire- place, and I lay on the couch on the opposite side of the room. They seemed to have forgotten all about my presence as they talked on in low contidfutial tones. Glady's liead rested on l^^sthcr's shoulder, and their hands were clasped. 'I'he two had learned to lov(! each other as I had never dreamed they could. "1 am homesick to see mamma," Esther was saying, "yet I feel so l)adly at leaving here. It seems to me tiiat 1 am not the same girl at all who came here four months aii'o." "Vou don't love tea (piite so well, for instance," (iladys said, with a teasing laugh. From when; 1 lay J could see the girls' faces plainly in the fire-light. A smile flitted over Esther's face as she replied : "No, not quitr so well. Do you know, Gladys, it is hard for me to realize that I ever did love tea so welW Yet I did. The fourth nioht I was here I never closed my eyes. I could not sleep. I felt as if I were dying of thirst. I slipped ([uietly down stairs and into the pantry. I looked into (ivery box and can 6 83 hi- , :^ii 84. (^lEEli (QUESTIONS QUAIMI.V AN.-iWEKED, 1! I" I there. If only I could have found some tea I should have eaten the dry leaves ; I think it would have satisfied nie. But I couldn't find one shrivelled little leaf. I drank some vinegar, but that only made my stomach hurt. I determined that as soon as I was dressed in the morning I would go to the hotel for a cup of tea. Then I would buy some, and carry it in my pocket to eat. But you never left my side a moment that morning— I could not get away from yoQ. I was so rude and unkind with you that whole day that I wonder your mother did not send me oft' somewhere. But instead, she was so good, so kind with me that now I could cry when I think of it. She gave me everything to eat and drink that was nourishing and tempting ; everything in the world one could need or wish; everything but the only thing I wanted — tea ! " Some days I felt as if I were a criminal or drunkard whom she was trying to reform, and it made me angry. Then, again, it seemed as if she were my good angel, indeed, and I was sorry for my meanness. But for the first three weeks I was here, Gladys, every hour was torture. Then that great, awful craving began to disappear. I would some- times iorget about it for several hours at a time. I began to drink my cocoa or chocolate, milk or lemon- ade without caring quite so nuicli. Then one day I asked for a cup of hot water, the same as the others drank. You remember the day, don't you? I can see your face yet as I asked for it. That look would have been reward enough, even though the water had /; V o went home the cliild whom slie visited be<(nn to ^et pale and thin. She could not eat her meals, and her llesh seemed dry and hot, as it' she had a fever all the time. She became so for(^etful that they were ohli^vd to take her out of school. They hoped that the rest would do her good, but she did not get stronger. All she seemed to wish was to wander off alone, and be by lierself all the time. She became thinner and weaker ; her finger- nails became colorless, and her eyes sunken and dull. Her parents became very alarmed about her condi- tion. As the home doctors did not seem to be help- ing her they took her away to a specialist. He soon told them what was the matter, and they were very much shocked to thul their little daughter had ever done anything so naughty. " I have told you a number of times, illadys, to be very careful never to touch, in any way, the private parts of your body, only, of course, as you are obliged to do so. I have always been very careful, too, that they should be bathed every night before you retire. Keeping yourself perfectly clean has beconie so much a habit with you that you never think of doing other- wise, and you would be very surprised if I were to tell you that some children do not even have a bath once a week, and those parts are never washed except when they do have a bath, if it be only once in two or three weeks. Hence they often become chafed and feverish-like, and this makes the child feel like rubbing them. But those organs are ver}^ delicate, and, if handled at all more than necessary they become ) I I .1 i CHILDREN WHO VISIT. 93 i i irritated and diseased. And the oftenor they are touclied the more diseased they become, till at last the whole body is afi'ected, "The little girl I was speaking of had been told by lier friend that handling those parts would make her feel better. And as she had never l)een told that she must never touch them, but keep hei-self ])erfectly clean by bathing them every night, she did as the girl told her, till at last she became so sick that she almost died." " Oh, mamma ! what did the doctor do '. 13 id he cure the poor little girl ? " said Gla » Wl k ^.'i»,ni m ll r >»»i.i - i»r « 94 QUEER QUESTIONS QUATN'TLY AXSWEUED. could not got well, for they kept her system in n feverish condition, which made her disease much worse. She ate plenty of fruit, drank (juantities of milk, ate no meat whatever, but lived lar<^ely on brown bread, oatmeal, oraham craUers, wheat meal, peas, beans, and other vegetables, tot^ether with nuts which supplied the place of meat." " And you think, mamma," said Gladys very gravely, " that all the little girl suffered nn'ght not have been at all, if only that other girl had not stayed all night with her ^ " " Yes, my dear, I do, for it is usually at night, when the light is out that naughty little girls tell such things. Of course, it is not always so, but most people are half-ashamed to talk of impure things with God's great, pure sunlight around them. When all is dark they feel less afraid." Gladys sat very thoughtful for a little while, then said : " But, mamma, if every little girl knew that she must keep herself very clean, and never touch herself except when she had to ; and had been told what a dreadful sickness comes from not doing so, then it wouldn't hurt for little girls to visit each other, would it ? For they would all know how wrong it was, and wouldn't think of doing so." " Yes, my little one is right," I replied, " and I wish every mother would guard her little daughter by telling her these facts. But it will be a long, long time before every little girl is thus protected : and in the meantime I must keep my birdie safe at home under my wing." I i ■ (MIAiTEK XI. FU(»M (JlllMIOOl) TO WOMANHOOD. ; I WAS Ivin;; on tlio louiiiiO (Jiie ovenini!: whon OladvH came in from scliool. Slie was always (jiiick to notice it' I seenied a little less well than usual, and now she put her face l()vin;4'Iy down beside nunc, 8ayin<( : " vVliat is the matter, nianinia ; arc you sick ? " I smiled. " No, not sick, exactly : but I feel like restinij." Then for a moment I looked thou