Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 December 1898 — A MOTHER’S MUSINGS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A MOTHER’S MUSINGS.

UET, three-quarters V > of ft pound, bread crumbs, three-quar-tors, eight eggs. I Juf told her to be eareful in weighing, but' you can never tell. Last year it fell to JPSKiS pieces before it came to table, and spoiled my pleasure for SmlhZJ the rest of the dinner. Father used to • say that

puddings wcrr like ours, but that was when I made my own. I wish I could (have made them this year, but I dared not •uggest it. They are so flighty nowadays.! these fine servants. Maria would have ’taken offense nt once, nnd it would never have done to be without her just now with a house full of visitors. It felt like old times to-night, and how happy father looked welcoming them all! He will ruin those boys before the hqjidays are over. It was the same with our •wo children; if he was obliged to disappoint them, he was miserable for the teat of the day. Such n tender hsart ns he has! I never knew a innn like him. He has never lost patience with me in all these years, and I have been sharp with him many a time—-about sncii little things! When 1 have fretted about the children ring away and leaving us, one by one, have remembered his faithful love and been comforted. Four children, thrse grandchildren, all

of them back beneath the old roof, except —oh, my boy! where are you to-night? What are you doing? You can’t go to sleep on Christmas eve withqut remembering the old home, and your mother, Robbie —the old mother who tried to make your Christmases happy years ago! Father doesn’t say anything, but there is a look on his face I know well. He is getting an old man, and he depended on Rob to help him. He was our first. None of the others were quite the same. I remember the Christmas after he was born as if it were yesterday. Eleven months old, and he sat on his high chair like a prince. We gave him a Punchinello on the end of a stick, and when he turned it round it played a tune. His little face of astonishment, how sweet it was! How we loved him! If you had died, Rob, it would have been easier; but to know that you are alive, and don’t care —that’s the hard part; it is that that breaks my heart! I shouldn't like to die before Rob comes back. His brothers might be harsh with him. William is very bitter. He has always been a dutiful boy himself, and he cannot understand such behavior. How handsome he looked when he arrived tonight, and how prosperous! He must be making a big income, I should say, by the way they live; but he was always close, and he is worse than ever since his marriage. Emily must have bought a new traveling cloak! Last year she wore a brown one trimmed with fur. It didn’t look shabby to me, but she is so extravagant! Five servants now’, and only those two children. &o w’onder Will is getting gray; jt must be a strain on him to provide for such a household. I wonder if Hannah remembered to put frilled pillow cases on her bed. I shall be annoyed if

she has forgotten, for it is just one of the things Emily would notice. She has all her sheets hemstitched. The children are beauties! Eric is the picture of his father at the same age, and what a spirit! Cecil takes after his mother's family. I love them dearly, but it’s a good thing children come while one is young—l couldn’t stand the racket for long nowadays. Ernest looks thin. He doesn’t get on, poor boy. It would have been wiser if we had given him his own way and let him go abroad, but we did it for the best. Father says we cannot do more than act upon the light of the moment, and that it is useless grieving over what is irretrievable, but I can’t help grieving. Amy has had a hard time! No one would think, to look at her now, what a pretty girl she was when they were married. She has no nurse girl for baby, and that is the same dress she wore last year, with new tntnmings to freshen it up. We fllust give them a check with their Christmas present. but not before the others— they would not like that—just quietly when we are alone.

Minette and Charlie entne Inst, though they live nearest of all. She planned that, the little rogue! I know her tricks. She was? not going to arrive in the character of bride without making sure of ’ her audience; and how pretty she was—a perfect picture in Lovely furs. Father says she is exactly what I was as a girl, but my hair was never so golden. And Charlie adores her. I ought to be thankful for that marringc. Her house is prettier than any of the others, but I don’t know how she will manage. She uses the best things every day. nnd never draws the blinds for the sun. When I say anything she pulls my cap on one side nnd asks if 1 remember Aunt Christina’s soft blanket. They all laugh nt me about that, but 1 can't see the joke. It was far too grand for our room, nnd the rial nnd green stripes made the furniture look shabby. so I put it aside for one of the children, and now none of them will have it. It can’t be soiled, for it Is wrapped up in the same paper in which it arrived ten years ago, nnd it’s a beautiful thing—there must be pounds of wool in it, not to mention the silk.

Charlie sits next to Emily. I wonder what she will wear! I wonder which cap I should put on! The one with the pearl drops is the most tiecoming, but the lace is not real. I’ll wear the new one, and let her see that my Brussels is as good as hers. I think Til give Amy the old Houlton. She has brought presents for everyone, the kind little thing, though she is so shabby herself. She showed me Nell’s to-night. Pink silk covers for cushions! She is going to sew them on in the morning. and they will is* on the couch as a surprise for Nell when she is carried down to dinner. The pink will make her look less pais. My precious lamb! A wwk

ago I thought she would not be tble to come down, but she has stayed in bed and taken every care. She knew- it would spoil our Christmas if she were not among us. Ah! what was I saying? Last year she walked down; this year she must be carried—next year, perhaps My baby! The last of them all! I can’t face it, I can’t let her go! I have nursed her'night and day for nineteen years, I should have nothing to do if Nellie were not here. And yet to see her grow more and more helpless; to suffer worse pain! She would be well and strong, and she has had nothing but suffering here —never any enjoyment like other girls. There are worse troubles than death—much worse. If I could think of Robbie in heaven! Ah! my boy, where are you to-night? What are you doing? Have yon forgotten me, Robbie, altogether? Twelve o’clock striking! Father in heaven, Thy Son’s birthday! Hear a mother’s prnyer. My children! Remember my children!