Rensselaer Union, Volume 5, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 May 1873 — A DAY LOST. [ARTICLE]

A DAY LOST.

I was sewing away one -morning, for dear life, as the saying is. intending to make a good day of it, and put my work ahcad, wlien 1 letty, my litile dt ttigliter, live years old, gave a pull at my elbow, and said: “Mamina.” “Well, dear, what is wanted?” I did not look aside from my WoTk, into her sweet little face, nor speak in as loving tones as usual, for the interruption was. not wholly agreeable. " ' ■“Ctiii’t I have my wav doll, mamma?” Now this wax doll was a treasured present Irom grandmother, highly prized and carefully treated by Hetty ; and after being tenderly nursed by her, dressed and undressed, ”on rare occasions, laid away under lock and key in one of my bureau drawers. “Not to-day,” was my answer. “Why not to-day, mamma?” Sure enough, why not to-day? That was just, the question. Was it because Hetty might injure the doll? No, that was not the reason ; for she was a careful little girl. The true reason was, I did not wish to leave niy work and lose live minutes time in going up-stairs to the bureau. Just this, ami no more. But, what reply was made to Hetty? A very unreasonable and unsatisfactory one; and such as no mother should ever make. “Beeihisc you can’t have Dolly to-day/' Because-—how many short-comings and sins of omission are covered by this convenient, vaguely meaning little word. “I won’t hurt her, mother, I’ll be oh !-so careful. Do, mother, let me have Dolly-.” “Didn’t I shy that you couldn't have Dolly?” 1 knit mv brows and. spoke with some severity. Having said no, 1 must be firm. Right or wrougkl must be Consistent; that is, have my own will in the case. And as I was the stronger of the two, of course my will decided the question between us. Poor Hetty! She knewsomething of my hard decision of character, and retired from the contest. As I turned my eyes from her face to my work, I carried in my mind the image of her grieving lips anil tear-filled eyes. Was I rebuked? Yes. Did I repent? Yes. And go for the doll at once? No. I was busy at my.work and equid not spare, a minute. Sewing seams was of more consequence than sowing seeds of happiness in the heart of my child. And then, had I not said that Dolly was not to make her appearance to-day? Was I -to break my word? No. 1 must be a consistent mother, if I expected to govern my children aright. It was very still in the room for the next ten minutes. Only a'sob or two broke —the silence,at. first, as Hetty choked down her disappointment. She had crept into the great arm-chair, and was sitting there idle and silent. After a white I turned partly around, and glanced toward her stealthily. Her brow Was contracted, her lips- pursed- oitF-Al4ghHy, antl -over her whole face was a shade of unhappiness. “IVhy don’t you get your china doll?” said I, rather coldly. “1 don’t want my china doll,!’ she answered. “Oh T very-well, just as you please, my little lady,” I returned; and took no nolice of her for ten minutes longer—all the while working away as intently as if our next meal depended on the result of my labor*. I was sorry that I had not taken the time to get Hetty’s wax doll; but, as I had said no, I concluded that it was best to let no remain in force. Presently she slipped down from the arm-chair, and went quietly from the rijp.nt, I paused in my work, mid listened .-fiiuie light patter of her feet as she 'went up sfitirs. A faint sigh, born of a passing regret, came up from my heart. "It. would have been better if I had given her the doll,” said I, to myself. “But it late now.”' ~ So I bent to my sewing again, and made the little needle fly with increased "velocity. 7 ■•_- “I wonder where that child is, and what she is doing?” v . Nearly half an hour had passed since , Hetty left the room. I paused in my work as 1 asked myself this question, ghd listened. But I could hear no sound of her. I would have laid down my sewing and gone in search of her, only—what? I felt as it I could not spare the time! - “Hetty!?*, ~ —— • —~ There was no reply. ’ “Hetty! Whqre - My volte was raised to a louder key; bjit no response came. So I bent to’ my work once more, , this uncertainty as to where the child 5 had gone, and what she was doing,

could not very long be borne. The time came when I dropped everything, and started in some concern of mind from the room. I looked into my chamber, but she was not there. I called, but got no an swer. Then I ran up to the third story, and pushed the door of one of the rooms open hastily. In the middle of the bed sat my little truant, busily at work with a pair of scissors on an elegant lace cape which had cost me fifteen With a quick exclamation and an excited manner, I sprang toward the little destructive, who, frightened at my tone and appearance, suddenly threw up her hands, and I saw the sharp point of the scissors site held enter her cheek just below the eye, A scream followed, as the blood ran over her face. What a sickening sense of pain and fear fell suddenly upon tny heart. For some moments I was half paralyzed with terror and bewilderment. Then catching up my little darling, I made an effort to compose myself and responded to the sober call of duty. I carried tier down stairs, and though almost fainting nt the sight of her blood, held back my agitation with a strong hand, and proceeded to wash the red stains from bcrjhce, and find out the extent of dim Injury. The wound, happily, was not of a serious nature; but the imminent danger of losing her eye that she had escaped, made me shudder whenever the thought passed through my mind, and so affected me that I grew weak and nervous, and on attempting, after soothing her. to sleep, to resume my work, found that my strength was gone. ~ And -so,-in my over-eagerness to “make a good day of it,” I had compassed the 1 oss-of a day. ..■ trying, witli an unsteady Jiand, to make my needle do its work, I threw down 'my sewing in despair, and went over to the chamber where I had laid Hetty to sleep. The dark red scar, just on the orbital verge, rebuked me as strongly as if it nad living voice. Dear child! How could 1 have so foigotteu the needs of her opening mind? How could 1 havO so failed to realize that, while I was absorbed in niy own employments, she must have something to do? For several minutes I stood bending over her. Then going to the drawer in which her wax doll was laid, I unlocked it, and taking out the beautiful effigy, placed it on the pillowlxiside her. How sweet the two faces looked; the living and the inanimate. I gazed at them until my (‘yes were blinded by tears; and then went 4>ack--UK-hta—sitlmg-Eooim- where I made another effort to resume my work. My hand had grown a little—steadier, but the heart was .gone. For a very short timfi I endeavored to force myself to keep on with my appointed task; but, mind and body both dissented so strongly thsft the garments I had hoped to complete were finally laiiLaside,..not,to .Jie touched.again until to-morrow. As 1 was doing this, a sigh for my lost sadly from my lips. At this moment 1 heard Hetty s feet and voice; she had awakened, and finding Dolly by her side, had forgotten all the past, and was as happy as a child could be. “Dear, dear, sweet Dolly!” she was singing as blithely as if grief had never laid a finger upon her heart. ■ "Oli, mamma!” she exclaimed, as she entered the sitting-room, “you arc so good to give me Dolly to play with,” and she came dancing to me, with her dewy lips put up to mine for a kiss. There was no rebuke on those precious lips—oh, no. 1 That kiss was love’s oWn best expression; and yet it stung me with remorse. Hetty’s trial Was over, her grief forgotten. I'ut, on my bosom was laid the burden of regret, and I could not throw it off. .Her state of disturbance had passed like the morning cloud and the early dew; but mine kOj>Lpulsing on and sluidowhrg the hours that might have passed in cheerful work. - - - - I counted that day lost, except for the lesson it tauglit me; for, when I laid my aching head upon its pillow at night, I could not look back upon any useful thing accomplished. There had been fruitless efforts to do many things; but my restless, state kept me flitting and changing, and my half-formed purposes wrought out no sure results.; — Arthur's Home Magazine.