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 r CAUFONA 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
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 " SHE RETURNED, A LITTLE OUT OK liREATH, WITH A RED-FACED TYRANT 
 
 UNDER EACH ARM." Page 14. 
 Frontispiece.
 
 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER 
 
 A MARITAL FAiNTASY 
 
 BY 
 
 G. H. P. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 A. W. VAN DEUSEN 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
 27 West Twenty-third Street 24 Bedford Street, Strand 
 
 "Cbe Rmcfterbocfcer press 
 
 1894
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894 
 
 BY 
 G. P. PUTNAM S SONS 
 
 Entered at Stationers Hall, London 
 
 Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by 
 
 ftnicfecrbocfeer press, flew Jjjorh 
 G. P. PUTNAM S SONS
 
 TO 
 THE OPPRESSED HUSBANDS AND FATHERS 
 
 OF THE LAND 
 AND TO THE UNKNOWING YOUNG MEN WHO MAY 
 
 BE CONTEMPLATING MATRIMONY 
 
 THIS LITTLE TREATISE IS SYMPATHETICALLY 
 
 DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR
 
 The following paper, written nearly a 
 quarter of a century ago (when the world 
 seemed younger) for the purpose of pro 
 moting the gayety, not of nations but of 
 a very serious literary society, has been 
 thought worthy of preservation in book 
 form, not on the ground of any literary 
 quality, but because of its philanthropic 
 purpose, and because also the narrative 
 presented situations which could be taken 
 advantage of by the pencil of a clever 
 draftsman. 
 
 Nciv York, June, 1894..
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "SHE RETURNED, A LITTLE OUT OF BREATH, WITH A 
 
 RED-FACED TYRANT UNDER EACH ARM " Frontispiece 
 
 " I GAVE MY CRADLE A KICK OF MALICIOUS SATIS 
 FACTION " 16 
 
 " THE FACE WAS DELICATELY TOUCHED UP BY MY 
 
 ARTIST FRIEND " . . . . . . .22 
 
 "THE MOTHER SAT LOOKING AT HER CHILD, WITH 
 AN ASPECT OF CALM DIGNITY AND SWEET MOTHERLY 
 AFFECTION " 24 
 
 " OUR NEW NURSE, MY DEAR" 28 
 
 " FOR A MOMENT THEY STOOD FACING EACH OTHER " . 30
 
 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER
 
 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 
 
 ," I sa id> "I can>t stand this any 
 longer. I might as well have no 
 wife at all as to have one who, instead of 
 belonging to me, her lawful lord and 
 master, is at the beck and call of sundry 
 small specimens of humanity, to whose 
 remorseless tyranny she yields the im 
 plicit and uncomplaining obedience of the 
 most abject slave ! " 
 
 Numbers eight and nine of our little 
 family circle had arrived together, and, 
 sturdy little fellows that they were, had 
 recognized the situation at a glance, had
 
 12 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 deposed number seven from her position 
 of supremacy, and had set up a despotism 
 over their mother and the household, per 
 haps the most unmerciful that had as yet 
 been experienced. 
 
 It will be apparent, from this prelimi 
 nary word, that I am a married man, 
 sufficiently so, the superficial reader may 
 imagine. But it is precisely my complaint 
 that, while my opportunities for the 
 development of my parental qualities are 
 unsurpassed, my married life, as far as the 
 society of my wife is concerned, does not 
 amount to well, the value of a Confed 
 erate dollar. 
 
 If, going " fair shares " with my progeny, 
 I had been permitted to put in a claim for 
 say an even tenth of her attention, I 
 should have nothing to say. But those
 
 A MARITAL FAA TASY. 13 
 
 ogres of children pull her to pieces in 
 small mouthfuls through the twenty-four 
 hours between their nine voracious selves, 
 without giving me a chance for even a 
 thirty-second nibble. In giving them 
 their classification in the animal kingdom, 
 I should, I think, place them under the 
 head of " Polly-pophagi," or " Mother- 
 devourers." 
 
 I was just beginning to console myself 
 with the thought that before number one 
 became old enough to sit up evenings, 
 number seven would learn to go to sleep 
 before midnight, when numbers eight and 
 nine arrived, as I said, " all in a heap," 
 and deranged my calculations. " No," I 
 said, for perhaps the 999th time, as the 
 maternal slave, after eliminating one and 
 two in a flood of disgrace and tears (that
 
 14 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 gave them the appearance of a compound 
 waterspout), tucking up three, four, and 
 five, who were accidentally good, and 
 turning over to me the cradles containing 
 six and seven, with injunctions to " keep 
 them stirring," rushed off to obey the 
 vociferous calls of the despots in chief, the 
 two latest arrivals, " it won t do." 
 
 " Polly," I asked, as she returned, a 
 little out of breath, with a red-faced tyrant 
 under each arm, " What do those 
 ( wretches/ I was going to say, but 
 fortunately checked myself in time) young- 
 gentlemen want ? " 
 
 " Why, a little motherly affection, to 
 be sure," she answered, commencing to 
 " croon " to them in the language peculiar 
 to mothers and babydom. " They want 
 me."
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 1 5 
 
 " Bosh, " I rejoined. " They want 
 merely something soft to touch, a swing 
 ing motion to addle their brains (if they 
 have any), and a monotonous din in their 
 ears, and they would be just as well satis 
 fied if these were supplied by a steam- 
 engine as by their mother. It is all non 
 sense to talk of babies having affection. 
 You might as well believe in their Cal 
 vinism, or transcendentalism, or any other 
 product of later life." 
 
 Polly, however, was too absorbed in the 
 "crooning" process to listen to my in 
 sinuations, and the beginning of a growl 
 in one of the cradles at my feet recalled 
 me to my own duty. But while I worked 
 I pondered. The word uttered in jest 
 remained in my mind. " A steam-engine ! " 
 Yes ! Why not ? Or an engine of some
 
 1 6 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 kind to perform at least this routine labor 
 of keeping the young savages at rest 
 by keeping them in motion. Something 
 steady, and soft, and swinging, and " croon 
 ing." Pshaw ! Science had solved worse 
 problems than this. It is simply the con 
 struction of an " Artificial Mother." The 
 thing is possible, and it shall be done ! I 
 gave my cradle a kick of malicious satis 
 faction, that evoked from number seven a 
 roar of rebellious protest, and then ab 
 sorbed myself in the fascination of the 
 thought. 
 
 On my way to business the next morn 
 ing, I called at the studio of an artist 
 friend to see a new picture, and my eye 
 rested on a lay-figure, standing, gracefully 
 draped, in one corner. It flashed across 
 me that this was just what I wanted, and I
 
 " I GAVE MY CRADLE A KICK OF MALICIOUS SATISFACTION." Pare l6.
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. I/ 
 
 persuaded my friend to spare it to me for 
 a time for some work I myself had in hand. 
 
 I did not want to startle Polly or to 
 arouse prematurely the suspicions of the 
 twins, so I carried the figure up into a 
 disused garret, and devoted all the spare 
 hours of the ensuing week to experiment 
 ing upon her. She was, fortunately for 
 my purpose, of the finest Paris make, steel- 
 springed, and double extra-jointed, and 
 there was question merely of supplying 
 the inward power (" true inwardness") and 
 the outward appurtenances. 
 
 I will not weary my readers with all the 
 details of my labors. I became so ab 
 sorbed in my task that I could hardly give 
 thought to anything else. My business 
 suffered, and my wife complained that my 
 face was getting a vacant stare upon it
 
 1 8 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 and she thought I was spending too many 
 hours at that horrid club. It is sufficient 
 to say that after various ineffectual ex 
 periments with steam, compressed air, and 
 electricity, I at length succeeded in pla 
 cing in the body of my lay woman a clock 
 work combination which, by a series of 
 spiral connections with the head, arms, 
 and shoulders, moved these in a uniform 
 swing, timed to coincide with that of the 
 rocking-chair in which I had placed her. 
 The periodicity and harmony of the move 
 ments were perfect, and I even flattered 
 myself that there was some special grace 
 in the upward sweep of the arms, and quite 
 a motherly effect to the downward bend 
 of the head. 
 
 But the crowning triumph of my labors 
 was the duplex " crooning attachment by
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 19 
 
 means of which was generated the neces 
 sary " rumble jumble" (with those monoto 
 nous sounds I was only too familiar), 
 which came streaming out of the mouth 
 in an unbroken succession that nothing- 
 
 o 
 
 but the action of the "safety stop-valve" 
 could break off. 
 
 This part of my " mother " cost me 
 much care and anxiety, for I knew that 
 unless this could be made a success, all 
 her other excellent qualities would go for 
 nothing. My mechanical readers will 
 easily guess the principle of the " attach 
 ment." A series of diminutive organ tubes 
 were arranged in the chest, the valves of 
 which worked by clock springs, while the 
 sound was conducted through a larynx, 
 (delicately constructed from a turkey s 
 gizzard) to the mouth. The first attempt
 
 20 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 with the combination produced only a 
 series of unearthly gasps, at the bottom 
 of which I thought I detected the ghost 
 of a gobble, but a little modification of 
 the valves, the treatment of the gizzard 
 with a weak solution of aqua regia, which 
 softened away all its harsh reminiscences, 
 and the interposition between this and 
 the tubes of a pair of miniature drum 
 heads (made of mouse-skin) as rever 
 berators of the sound, gave me the happy 
 result of a complete series of " croon 
 waves." I was able also finally to arrange 
 these in three sets of chords, so that the 
 crooning could be made piano, andante, 
 or furiossissimo, according to the age, 
 condition, or degree of obstreperousness, 
 of the infant being operated upon. 
 
 Of course, the clock-work upon which
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 21 
 
 the crooning depended was entirely dis 
 tinct from the system controlling the 
 movements of the body, being of necessity 
 much more complex and delicate, as sup 
 plying what might be termed the "brain 
 power " of the creature. When I noticed 
 the precision with which my safety stop- 
 valve worked, bringing the most furious 
 croon-waves to a complete stop within the 
 tenth of a second, I could not help long 
 ing that its application could be extended 
 beyond the range of artificial mothers. 
 What an ideal domestic existence would 
 be that in which the natural article could 
 be brought to a safe stop within the tenth 
 of a second ! 
 
 It now remained only to put the finish 
 ing touches on my "mother" in com 
 pleting her attire and adornments. I gave
 
 22 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 careful attention to the details of these, 
 for I knew that those twins were very 
 sharp fellows, and I did not propose to 
 give them any ground for irreverence or 
 even for criticism in the appearance of 
 the lady who was to stand to them in loco 
 matris. One of Polly s nursery gowns, 
 with the color of which the twins were 
 perfectly familiar, was skilfully abstracted 
 from her wardrobe, and gracefully draped 
 round the " mother," whose arms and 
 breast had first been carefully padded. 
 
 The face was delicately touched up by 
 my artist friend (whom I had finally been 
 obliged to take into my confidence), until 
 it wore an air of maternal affection and 
 solicitude almost surpassing that of the 
 original ; and the hair (which was one of 
 the more expensive items of my purchased
 
 " THE FACE WAS DELICATELY TOUCHED UP BY MY ARTIST FRIEND."
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 2$ 
 
 paraphernalia) was arranged as nearly as 
 possible in the regular " disarrangement " 
 to which the babies were accustomed. 
 This I found difficult to effect without 
 impairing the safety of the fastenings, and 
 I dreaded somewhat the chance of one of 
 the twins in an enterprising moment 
 giving a grab at the "light ringlet just 
 sweeping his face," but it was a risk that 
 had to be incurred. 
 
 And now she was complete, and my 
 heart beat high with a sense of triumph 
 and expectation, while visions came before 
 me of the time when, with a whole team 
 of "artificial mothers" crooning peace 
 and comfort through the house, Polly and 
 I could roam away in blissful idleness and 
 renew the days of our youth. 
 
 A carefully prepared rag-baby was laid
 
 24 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 in the arms of the expectant mother, the 
 two sets of works were wound up, the 
 starting spring touched, and the rocking 
 and fondling and crooning commenced, 
 with such perfect naturalness, grace, and 
 harmony that I was carried away by my 
 delight, and caught myself saying, " My 
 dear, you are a grand success, and reflect 
 credit on your maker." 
 
 I put on the stops, and the baby 
 dropped with an easy motion of the arms 
 into the "mother s" lap, the crooning 
 softened down into the gentle murmur of 
 the "piano," then ceased altogether, and 
 the mother sat looking at her sleeping 
 child with an aspect of such calm dignity 
 and sweet motherliness that I was irresist 
 ibly impelled to give her a kiss of hus 
 bandly approval.
 
 ; THE MOTHER SAT LOOKING AT HER CHILD, WITH AN ASPECT OF CALM 
 DIGNITY AND SWEET MOTHERLY AFFECTION." 1 agC 24.
 
 A MAKITAL FANTASY. 2$ 
 
 "What would Polly say?" I thought, 
 as I wiped from my lips the slight touch 
 left on them by the damp paint. Remov 
 ing the rag-baby, I lifted with some effort 
 the chair containing my handiwork down 
 to the door of my parlor, which, since the 
 advent of the twins, had been appropriated 
 by them as a special private nursery, where 
 my occasional presence was permitted 
 only on sufferance. 
 
 The moment seemed propitious for 
 my experiment. I could hear the twins 
 yelling with vociferous indignation for 
 their slave Polly, who had evidently 
 been called into the farther nursery by 
 some outbreak among their predecessors. 
 I opened the door, placed the rocking- 
 chair cosily in front of the fire, smoothed 
 down the drapery and loosened out the
 
 26 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 hair of its occupant, and gently laid a 
 twin in each arm. A touch on the 
 springs, and the arms moved up, clasping 
 the little clamorous infants to her breast ; 
 the head bent over, the feet touched the 
 floor, impelling the chair with a uniform 
 swing, and with an equally uniform mo 
 notony the steady waves of the " croon 
 ing " poured forth from her lips. 
 
 The twins hushed their angry com 
 plaining and looked up inquiringly at 
 the being to whom their destiny (in the 
 shape of their father) had confided them. 
 It was a moment of terrible suspense. If 
 their keen perceptions discovered the 
 fraud, if they decided that, in addition 
 to the creature comforts of warmth and 
 motion and noise, it was essential to their 
 happiness to have also the/ ne sais quoi
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 2/ 
 
 of motherliness that my substitute could 
 not bestow upon them, if (in the language 
 of the day) their unsatisfied yearning 
 revealed to them that their souls were not 
 fed, and their sensibilities not ministered 
 to, my beautiful theories would fall base 
 less to the ground, and my labor and 
 hopes would indeed have been vain. 
 
 But no ! Firmly held in the warm 
 embrace of the untiring arms, evenly 
 rocked in the steady swing of the chair, 
 and dinned into unconsciousness by the 
 unbroken stream of sound, they stilled 
 their noisy complainings, accepted the 
 situation, and relapsed into a state of 
 blissful contentment and repose. It was 
 evident that babies had no souls that 
 needed ministering to, and that my " arti 
 ficial mother" was a success. I threw
 
 28 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 myself into an easy-chair with the con 
 sciousness that I had done a great work 
 for the world, for myself, for Polly. 
 
 Just then I heard her step approaching. 
 The sudden cessation of the wonted cries 
 had alarmed her keen ear, and she came 
 flying in, looking, with the flush of haste 
 and alarm upon her face, especially pretty 
 and charming. 
 
 " Our new nurse, my dear," I said, 
 waving my hand towards the chair. 
 
 " A friend who has come in to lend a 
 hand," I proceeded rather incoherently, 
 seeing that Polly stood back with doubt, 
 bewilderment, and vague apprehension. 
 
 "In short, my dear, my new artificial 
 mother I burst out in desperation, as 
 she still stood and stared, while the rock 
 ing-chair went on without ceasing, and
 
 " OUR NEW NURSE, MY DEAR." Page 28.
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 29 
 
 the crooning started in on the higher 
 key. 
 
 "Artificial what?" cried Polly. " Oh, 
 Tom ! what frightful experiments are you 
 making with my blessed boys ? Let me 
 have them at once," she cried, rushing at 
 the figure. 
 
 But the babies were but clutched the 
 tighter, the chair swung more swiftly, and 
 the " crooning" burst into a louder strain 
 with what sounded like a defiant ring. 
 
 " Give me my children ! " shrieked Polly, 
 trying to check the ceaseless swing of the 
 chair, but the " mother " continued im 
 perturbable and only answered her vehe 
 mence with a bland, fixed smile. 
 
 "Tom, help me; the thing is a de 
 mon ! " screamed Polly in desperation, pull 
 ing frantically at the "mother s" arms.
 
 30 THE ARTIFICIAL MOTHER. 
 
 But even as she spoke the swinging re 
 doubled in velocity until the two babies 
 grew black in the face, and seemed merged 
 into one. The crooning burst into a 
 savage roar, as if, indeed, a fiend had 
 taken possession of my innocent " mother," 
 and to my excited imagination it really 
 seemed that her eyes flashed fire and her 
 face assumed an expression of demoniacal 
 malice. 
 
 Finally, with a ferocious tug, Polly 
 succeeded in pulling the " mother" up 
 from the chair. For a moment they 
 stood facing each other, glaring at each 
 other in rage and defiance until I could 
 hardly tell which looked the more terri 
 ble of the two. 
 
 Then came a " whirr" and a snap, and 
 with a frightful crashing too-ether, and a 

 
 "FOR A MOMENT THEY STOOD FACING EACH OTHER." /"? 30.
 
 A MARITAL FANTASY. 3! 
 
 last despairing "croon," the "mother" 
 sank in fragments on the floor, shooting 
 the two babies to the opposite ends of 
 the room, like billiard-balls from a carrom. 
 
 With the whirr and the crooning, and 
 the crash still ringing in my ears, I woke 
 up and found I had tipped over the cradle 
 of number seven on top of number six, 
 and that the collision had produced a 
 small pandemonium. 
 
 My "artificial mother" was a dream, 
 but may I not hope also a prophecy ?

 
 A 000717781 9