El
poetry.
GODS WAYS
Ohl It is hard to work for Cod,
To rise and take his part
Upon the battle-field of earth,
And not sometimes lose heart
Ile hides himself so wondrously,
As though there were no God;
lie le least seen when all thd powers
Of ill ere most abroad.
Or lie deserts us at the hour
The fight is almost lost; ?-
Anil seems toleave us to ourselves
Just whon we need him most.
111 masters good good seems to change
To tIl with greatest ease;
' ( 'And, worst of all, the good with good
Is at cross purposes.
It Is not so; but so it looks,
And w e lose course° then ;
And doubts will eome•if God both kept
Ills prornises to men.
Ah ! God is other that) we think ;
His ways are far above,
Far above reason's height. and reached
Only by child-like love.
The look, the fashion of God's ways
Love's lifelong study are:
She can bebold and guess, and net,
When reason would not dare
She has n prudence of her own
Iter step Is firm and free,
Yet there Is cautlrdis science, too
In her simplicity.
Workman of nod! (4W not heart,
But learn what Chnt Is like;
And in the darkest bat tle-field
Thou shall know where to strike.
Oh, hloss'd Is ho to whom Is given
TIM instinct that can tell
+That find is on the field when Ito
Is most inclsible!
And bless'd is he who ran divine
Where real right doth
And dares to take the side that seems
Wrong to nutu's blindfold eye!
Oh..learn to scorn the ways of men
Oh, learn to live with Ood
For Jesus won the world through sham
And beckons thee his road.
God's glory is n wondrous thing,
Most strange in all its ways,
And of all things nn earth, least like'
What men agree to praise.
Muse on Ms justice, downcast soul,
Muse and take better heart;
Ba-k with Woo angel to the field,
Good luck shall crown thy part.
God's justice is a bed where we
Our anxious hearts may lay,
And, weary with ourselves. may sleep
Our discontent away.
feltrt •Tait.
Erma Graham's Magazine.
THE BRIGGS' BABY
By ELLA RODMAN CHURCH
Lot well-enough alone.—OLD MAXIM
It was a forlorn•looking little object, seem
ing as though it had got into a tangle, and
could not get. out again—an undistinguishable
mass of nothing in ,particular, whose chief
amusement appeared to be that of digging its
eyes out with its fists—and yet the Whole
house was in an uproar about it; and not only
the house but the village too.
The Briggs' Baby, to be brief, was an object
of universal admiration. Martha Briggs was
yet scarcely more than a child herself, and as
to Sam every one knew that ho had only just
completed his tweuty-first year. Uncles,
aunts, and cousins, flocked in from all direc
tions to gaze upon the wonder and detect in its
ittle, shapeless features a striking resem
blance to / father or mother, or both. Sam held
his head at least three inches higher than be
fore the advent of that remarkable In}by; and
Martha evidently considered all the 'extrava
gant praises bestowed upon the queer little
piece of hUmanity as not the half of what it
deserved.
The large, old-fashioned house directly op
posite the 13riggs', belonged to,Timothy Corn
wall. Timothy, was a rich man; he owned
other houses and numerous broad acres—
nearly all of which had been acquired by hard
work and careful saving. His better-Ina
was a perfect mirror •of her husband; to work
and to save find been the objects of her life.
They had both done this for twenty years; and
nowAhey were the richest people in Hornets
ville.
Every thing about the premises was neat,
regular, and plentiful; and it, was the kind of
place that a traveller in the stage-coach would
have InVoluntarily noticed for its air of old•
fashioned comfort and luxuriance; each sepe•
rate apple,or pumpkin upon theJarm seeming
to grow in a proper, regular way, and every
Army leafing out in the most orderly manner.
OneLeduld tell, at a glnuce > lhat there" were
no chihtikm there to put things in disorder—
no little, muddy feet to conic pattering in upon
Mrs: CprnWalPs immacula - te floors—or childish
band to dillarfange the methodically-placed
tables and chairs., No, when l ids neighbors
spoke of Timothy Cornwall to strangers, they
nveriably added that he bad 'neither chick
nor child;' and nerdiewe.and neices began to ,
be quite anxious about the extent of their fa
vor with Uncle Timothy • '
Mrs. CornVall had been sitting' with Mar
tha; and she crossed the road to her own
dwelling with a thoughtful step, and sat down
in her bonnet, by the sitting-room fire, in a
complete state of abstraction. She had seen
babies before—plenty of them; and yet, some
how, the Briggs',baby seemed to arouse a new
and unaccustomed train of thought.
Yes, Timothy was now hard on to sixty,
and she was hard on to fifty; they had worked,
and saved and were rich; they could now fold
their hands and do nothing, if they liked, for
the rest of their lives. But for *hat had they
been working and saving ? She didn't see
but that it was to make their relations glad
when they diedt'and hereyrs. Cornwall gave
a large stick of wood - IV/unnecessary push
with her foot. They h i nd an immense house,
with no one in it but themselves and Sally,
whose province was entirely confined to the
kitchen; and, somehow or other, it began to
seem kind of lonely. She didn't know as she
got rid of trouble, either; for, when anything
was the matter with anybody, they always
sent for het:. 'She hadn't any children,' th ey
said; and on that account, she was expected
to be at people's beck whenever they chose to
call. Martha seemed so happy, and Sam
looked so proud of her and the baby—she
really believed that Tim would think a great
deal more of her if they had children around
them.
She sat twisting the strings of her bonnet,
nod gazing so intently into the tire that her
husband entered unperceived; but, stealing
round behind her, he bestowed Upon her still
red lips a kiss, the warmth of which showed
that his wife had certainly done him injustice,
us he said—
'Why, mother, what.'n the mutter?' as he
noticed the cloud upon her brow.
Now this title of 'mother' bestewod upon
his wife, was one of Tim's peculiarities that
afforded an inexhaustible subject of mirth to
his friends. By what species, of.mental hallu
cination, he could ever regard her in thai
light, was certainly a mystery; but it was
known to be an undeniable fact, that within a
week after their marriage, lie adopted that
style of address, and be continued it ever
since.
To her husband's great surprise, :Nlrs.
Cornwall burst into tears. She was rarely
thus affected; and Timothy began to fear
that something more than usual was the mat.
ter.
To all his entreaties, Mrs, Cornwall re
mained for a long time silent; but when, nt
length, ho had obtained a glimpse of her feel
ings,.and found that she was actually jealous
of Martha's baby, Timothy indulged in a hear•
ty laugh, partly from a sense of relict' that it
was no worse. But, observing, from his wife's
clouded face, that she was in no laughing
humor, ho good-naturedly elongated his own
visage to a sober • expression: and proposed
holding a consultation as to what was to -be
done.
The good man was extremely puzzled at the
strange turn that his wife had taken; and
thinking that she needed something to divert
her mind, proposed a quilting-party.
'I aint agoin' to have any more - quiltin'-
parties,' replied Mrs. Cornwall, with consider:
able asperity; 'there's the house turned topsy
turvy—lots of cake made, and eggs and cream.
vaniallin' like wildfire—forward youngsters
puttin' their noses in everywhere—Sally gt7um
blin' for a fortnight afterwardand much
thanks Igit for't all. Don't talk to Inc of
quiltin' parties, or any other parties !'
Timothy had made himself comfortable with
his pipe; and now sat ruminating amid vast
clouds of smoke. lie was not given to repin.
ing, but his wife's words had set him a-thinkin;
and ho became wrapped in a waking dream,
that was infinitely delightful. Childish hands
clasped his imp43 , —soft, childish cheeks were
pressed close to his—and childish tones rang
out in glee, diffusing unusual music through
the old 1101113 e.
Twenty—nineteen—yes, Timothy, Jr. would
now be 'a
likely young man, - who could take
half the taro of the farnAlf his shoulders, and
go on innumerable sleighi s ng parties with the
prettiest girls in the county; and Rebecca,
(ho would call her Rebecca after his wife,) he
saw her a beautiful and dptilul daughter, on
whose account the young men were troubling
him continually—but be would be stern with
them, and make them keep their distance—
they were none of them half good ettougli'for
Rebecca—he'd show them—but the pipe had
gone out; and Timothy awoke to realities
somewhat saddened, ma watched his wife as
she silently arranged the tea-table, that looked
so lonely only laid for two. There should be
Some little, high-chairs there ; and china
mugs whose gilt letters traced the wards, -To
tny' Son;' or •Th my Daught er ! „
The meal was eaten more silently than,usual;
and Timothy Cornwall and his wife began to
feel a void in .9,toir hearts—an empty, aching
void, that- woild not be silenced.
Mrs. Cornwall went often to the oppoSito
house ; ;iud sat'there tending the baby while
gu`taki.zact ilsTa3-10)1
leonelntled not to cry; and amused itself paii•
„ • ,
Martha, with 'her bright eyes and. rolled up
sleeves, flitted hero and there—now, plunged ling at Mrs Cornwall's cap.
up to the elbows in flour, in the manufacture Timothy gazed upon it with the utmost
yearning ; lie fairly longed to take the child
of one of Sam's favorite dishes, or singing
in his arms, and 'yet ho didn't dare to say DD.
through the house, broom in hand, as she
swept and dusted rooms that seemed alre tidy Ile was afraid his wife would,.laugh at aim;
he couldn't imagine howthe held it so nicely ;
swept and dusted to the last degree of ,neat
and he sat. there watching and endeavoring to
ness. Sltd found her neighbors extremely use
learn something. I .lle tried all manner of de
-611; and the baby became so accustomed to
Mrs. Cornwall, that it was.perfectly satisfied vices to attract the child's attention ; but it
to remain in her charge. -loolted upon his efforts With such evident con
'l do wish Martha, wouldn't be so dreadful tempt, that Timothy really felt hurt.
choice of that baby !' exclaimed Mrs. Timothy At length, watching his opportunity, he
. to her husband, on her return from one of snatehed'it suddenly from his wife's arms, and
these visits; 'she really seems to be afraid began dancing. s violently around the room with
that we'll eat it, or do something with it! I it. But Timothy was not accustomed to ba
wanted it over here to spend the day--I ,hies ;,,ho handled the child awkwardly ; and
thought it would be vo nice to have it her e by his violence, it set up a cry that fairly ter•
for once—it's a dear little thing, and knows rifled him..
. h
me as well as it knows its Mother; but Martha Timothy listened meekly to his wife's reproof
and sat down in a cool perspiration, while she
opened her eyes as wide as saucers, and said
that she et uldn't think of such . a thing at pros-
endeavored to sooth the fractious infant. But
it...would not be soothed; its feelings had been
out!' v
'lt would be nice,' said Tim, re fl ect i ve l y ; very much injured; and it tried so loud and
he having a vision of a.model baby that nev- steadily, that they began to fear Martha would
of hear
heir it, and come posting back to execute
er cried, behaved with all the consideration of'
,
a grown person, nail went quietly to sleep summary vengence upon them.
'
when people were too busy to attend to it.—
I declare,' exclaimed poor Mrs. Cornwall,
'Yes,' said he, 'I should really like to have it -panting with her exertions, filter trotting, and
hero.' walking, and tossing the child, until she sank
Mrs. Cornwall eat nursing her wrath iu the
rocking chair; and thinking what nn migrate.
ful creature Martha was, that she wouldn't
lend them the baby for a little while !
The months wore on, and the Briggs' baby
had got to be quite an old story. It now
seemed like a kitten that has commenced
growing, and lost its, prettiness; except, that
'it 1V11,9 a fat, good natured little thing, and
daily increasing in strength and beauty. It
was now ten months old ; aspired to eat and
drink like other people ; and, as its father
said, behaved in all respects, like a christinii.'
Sam and Martha were not much given to
jaunting—it took time and money ; but quite
suddenly one morning, they made up their
minds to attend a State Fair, about fifty miles
off ; for, as Sum said, •lie jest wanted to see
if them pumpkins, and squashes, and things,
recta any such great shakes, after all.'
They would be gone but one night,—and af
ter considerable hesitation, Martha listened
favorably to Mrs. Cornwall's proposal of ta
king charge of the baby. Sam laughed at his
wife's fears, and declared that .the young one
was well enough in such hands ; the only
danger was, that having tried the delights of,
having a baby in the house, they might insist
upon keeping it altogether ' And Martha ful
ly agreed with him in the latter idea.
They would take the afternoon train, and
return the next evening; and it was a settled
thing that•the baby was to be left with Mrs.
Cornwall. .
When Timothy came home to dinner, he
found his wife radiant with MUG'S. She in
formed him that they were going to have a
visitor, and told him to guess who it was.
'l'm sure, I don't know,' he replied, half
:lbsen tly.
'Well, guess,' rejoined his wife, quite pro
voked at his indifference. 'l'm sure you're
Yankee enough for that !'
''"But Timothy's perceptions were very much
clouded : and, when in despair, his wife was
obliged to divulge the secret, he seemed fairly
staggered,by it.
'Me baby.' he repeated. 'are you sure it's
quite well? Maybe it'll have a tit, or some
thin'.'.
'Nonsense,' replied his wife; 'all babies
don't have fits—Martha's never had n fit in its
life.'
Timothy was rather fearful ; but, being re
assured by his wife, bo ventured to giro him
self up to all the pleasure of the anticipated
enjoyment.
But buddenly his anxiety assumed a new
form
'How are you going to feed it? he inquired;
'wont it want a teapot or somethin'
The expression of intense contempt in Mrs.
Cornwall' eye, as she repeated the word 'tea
pot,' effectually silenced her husband, who
meekly admitted 'he didn't know much about
babies.'
Martha came over herself, frith the baby
care - fully bundled up, - to reiterate her charges;
and almost bewildered good Mrs. Cornwall
with the multiplicity of diwtion L s. Timothy
listened in considerable stirs; at first,
gazed upon the baby as though afraid that it
might hurt him. The object of all this solici
tude looked remarkably well satisfied with`the
arrangement, and parted from its mother
without a single . whimper.
;Didn't I tell you it was a darling ?' said
Mrs. Cornwall, as-she sat down to untie its
cloak and hood. '
The, baby laughed and crowed, gazed from
Timothy to the fire, and from the fire to Tim
othy, nod sucked its thumb in perfect content
ment.
The old gentlemen shook his newspaper at
It, but the baby started at the sudden noise;
find then Timothy .started because the baby
did, and looked no frightened, that his wife
laughed at him. The child was playful, how
ever, and after puckering tip it(mouth a little,
down from sheer exhaustion, 'this is worse
than ehurnin'-day even, or bakin' day either!
I couldn't feel more badly, if I'd done the
hardest day's work I ever done in my life.'
The baby was tired out, too, nod lay sob
bing on her knee—:Timothy regarding it with
a rueful conntenance, anki wondering what
in the name of common sense possssed it. Af
terwhile, the sobs nearly ceased—the tearful
eyes were closed— and with an ejaculation of
thankfulness, I%lrs. Cornwall deposited 'he
child in its cradli., which had been brought
over from the other house. She rocked it and
' hushed it twice as much as was necessary, for
fear that it was not really asleep ; and frown
ed down nll her husband's attempts at speak
ing, until be became quite impatient, and
looked upon the baby as something of a bore.
Timothy obeyed his wife's: beckoning nod,
and stood beside the cradle.
'lsn't it lovely ?' she whispered—and he
gave a fervent assent.
The round cheek was flushed with its late
excitement—one or two tear-drops still trem
bled on the long lashes— and the tiny, dim
pled band rested, like a rose-leaf, on the cov
erlet. The childless couple stood regarding
the sweet picture with a feeling of indescriba . -
ble tenderness; and the infant slumbered on,
undisturbed by their low whisperings.
Leaving the cradle and its precious con
contents in her husband's charge, Mrs. Corn
wall went to the kitchen 'to superintend some
arrangements for feeding the baby. Martha
had brought over a paper of arrow-root, the
boiling of which had been entrusted to Sally;
but that damsel, having cooked it with a most
homcepathic allowance of water, had manufac
tured a compound that tasted like burnt pud
ding. Mrs Cornwall was fairly discouraged.
'lt's a great bother, that baby,' muttered
Sally, 'cookie' up messes jist to throw away—
and then to hear this little varmint squeal!
My sakes why the pigs is nothin' to it!'
Timothy sat meditating by the cradle, until,
to his great delight, the baby opened its eyes.
It was now perfectly good-natured, and smiled
at him and sucked its thumb, ns though it had
quite forgotten its late wrongs. He held out
hands—the baby manifested a decided dispo
sition to accept them—and the next moment,
the delighted Timothy, with the child tightly
grasped in a highly novel and astonishing man
ner, paraded up and down the room with all
the feelings of a conqueror. The baby was
satisfied, and looked at him approvingly.
It seemed to be particularly fond of snatch
ing at thitigs, rind, having cornered Timothy
somewhere near the fire'Lphice, made frantic
griieps at an ancient china bowl, that had de
cended to Mrs. Cornwall from her great
grandmother. Every morning did the good
woman dust 'and polish it with'-f 'reverential
care ; it was so thin as to be almprt transpar
ent, and an oh z ject of especial admiration to
all their visitors.
Timothy gently disengaged the baby's hands,
and tied to divert its attention but the little
tyrant twisted its lip in such a manner that
made its guardian shake in his shoes, and he
felt very much in the same predicament as
does a man who is perched on a fence with a
tiger Riveting him on one side, and a lion on
the other. The baby struck the first notes,
and
and Timothy coward as he was, with a nervous
drew near again to the enchanted spot.
The catastroi ho soon followed—and Timo
thy awoke from his blindness, to hear his wife
exclaiming— ,
'I wouldn't have it, broken for the world I'
as sho gazed sorrowfully upon the shattered
fragments-Land thcbaky screaming over the ru
ins! drelare,' continued she, half crying,
almost Fish that Martha had taken the baby
with her-LI had no idea'of its behaving in this
way_!' •
'That's jilt tho tricks of babies,' observed
Sally, who' had been drawn from the kitelte9'
by the uproar, 'you never know , how they tisr
goin' to behave sometimes,. or
,inoWlimes,
utter a•eutlin' us like Old Scratch, himself--
and then pretendin' to look .o wart, as if
butter wouldn't molt in their mouth. I know
'em—Miss Briggs' welcome 7 to her t , aby, for
all me.'
But Martha would have said that Sally was
a souredspinster of forty, viewed other peo
ple's happiness through a perverted reedimn,
and was prompted entirely by mile -J. in her
unamiable reflections.
Sally banged the high chair, which i,ad also .
been sent over for the baby's acconnubdion, as
she drew it np to the table ; and 1001, r•d with
ill-concenled scorn upon Timothy, who Wbe
mlutlting his wires thimble on n pair of vcissors,
foi the amusement of thirresponsibili ty.
llaby graciously recoveted from its displeas
ure at the china bowl for being broken, and
requested by signs, that the sugar-dish and
preserves should be banded to it immediately.
Mre Cornwall answered this demand by pla
cing. it carefully in the high chair, and her
husband seated himself beside it with ranch
satisfaction.
What should the baby have to eat, was the
next question: Mrs, Cornwall was very much
at a loss what to substitute for the arroir-root,
and the child seemed in a fair way of getting
no supper nt all.'
At length, a bright idea :truck her, while
regarding a dish of apple sauce—that tills soft
enough, in all concience— and Timothy imme
diately heaped a liberal allowanq upon the
young visitor's plate. The baby liked it, that
was very evident—Mrs. Cornwall was famous
for her apple-sauce—and it drbblei in the
plate with its - little fat fingers, and colliveyed
the palatable compound to its mouth with as
tonishing rapidity.
The two old people sat gazing upon the
child in a sort of delighted surprise.:w though
they had not expected to see it eat; nod final
ly, 'Fitnothy placed a crust of brewd in the
little hand, in order to diVersify the perfor
mances. Poor man! what ever he did, was
done with the best intention, but somehow or
other, it-always seemed to be the thing that
lie should not do; for, after putting the crust
into its mouth, and attacking it in a manner
that delighted its entertainers, the youthful
scion of the house of Briggs suddenly became
grave, awl exhibited symptoms of choking.
Timothy's evil genius again beset him,•and he
lifted the cup of milk and wafer tn the child's
lips—it was swallowed the wrong w and
the baby began to grow black in aid; face.
'For mercy's sake!' exclaimed 'Mis. Corn
wall, as the child gasped for breath, 'pat its
buck, quick, or it will choke to death!'
Timothy putted with frightened vigor, his
wife patted, and Sally, too, lent her services
With a zeal that looked very much us though
she considered this a fine opportunity to re
venge herself upon the baby. been
pounded within au inch of its lite, lie child
~ntupped elwking iu self-tlOeuee; but rimothy
coutinued to pat, as though resolvl.d to pre
vent all future accidents.
Mrs. Cornwall wiped the perspiration from
her face, and at down consideratill sobered.
•For pity's sake,' said she, •give it nothing
but apple-sauce—!hat's safe enough, b r 1 took
out all the cores myself•. I wish to gracious
Maitha'd collie and take it, while it. is alive
Another supply of apple•suuce was placed
before it, and baby finished its supt.tr without
any more mishaps.
When the candles were lighted, the visitor
became sleepy and cross; and, after sending
Sally up and „down, much to that damsel's
displeasure, to be sure that the room w as warm
and comfortable, Mrs. Cornwall wrapped the
baby.in its cloak and hoed, and ht r husband
conveying the cradle, they proceeded up stairs
to put their charge to bed. A roariiig fire, a
luxury to which they were quite timieustomed
in their sleeping apartlitent, had been made
on baby's account; and Timothy deekired-that
the room felt like an oven.
The undressing was a complicated business;
first, Mrs. Cornwall took Things off, and then
upon bolding a consultation with Timothy, she
put them on again, fearing that it n6glit take
cold; and baby, indignant at being, thus trifled
with, rubbed its eyes with its fists, ;iii squirm
ed about in nit uncontrollable fit of passion.
•There—there!' said Mrs. Cornw:dl sooth
ingly, 'hush, now—that's a darling!'
But baby wouldn't hush, and kicked and
screamed: while the husband and wife sat re
..
gatding it in perfect bewilderment.
..I know what that young 'on vants,' ob
served Safly, whO stood by the doCr with an
expression 'of interme - disgust --- upon - ber - fea= --
tares; 'a few good slaps would bring it to its
serves mighty quick!'
This, however, was not to be thought of;
Mrs. Cornwall rocked vigorously, with the
baby on her lap—Timothy keeping up - an in
dustrious accompaniment to hei. cobsiant
t}t len i gth,, the' baby became too
sleepy to cry, and dropped oft' 'liken
it 'was , deposited in the cradle in triumph;
and mini a sigh of weariness, its nurses sank
into their respective seats by the fire.
'1 feel dreadful tired,' said Mrs. Cornwall,
'kind, of aching like the rheumatism.'
'So do I,' rejoined her. husband; 'and yet
(Continued on seventh pnge.)