We injure the health of the Child by enforcing on it silence. Wo have a formula that children should be seen and not heard. Wodeny it exercise its lungs, We discourage its natural and laudable curiosity by telling it not to worry us—not to many questions, "Won't somebody lend the young gentleman from Cambridge a small and healthy child just for a week or so, and lot the bargain be that he lives with it all the time. 'The young gentleman from Cambridge thinks, when' we call up the stairs to say that if we sound from the nursery for the hours we will come up xnd do things to that Child the mere thought of which should appel it, that is silencing the Child. 1t doos not occur to him that two minutes later that Child is yelling again at the top of its voice, having forgotten all we ever said. I Know the sort Of child the weeper over children's wrongs has in his mind. It has deep, soulful, yearning eyes. It moves about the house softly, shedding an atmosphere of patient resign: It says: " Yes, dear papa." "No, dear mamma—to be good and Tthas beautiful thoughts about You don't know whether it is house or isn't: you find it with its little face pressed close against the window-pane watching the golden sunset. Nobody understands it. It blesses the old people and of these days the young gentleman.from Cambridge will, one hopes, have a Baby of his own—a real Child? and serve him darn well right. At present he is labouring under wrong conception of the article.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.