Two Pictures by Dr. Mary Wood-Allen

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 16, 1908

Two Pictures

By Dr. Mary Wood-Allen

_The First_

Mrs. Emory awoke very tired. Indeed, she was always more tired in the morning than when she went to bed, for the baby had been nursing all night or else crying, and so disturbed the mother’s rest.

This morning baby was still sleeping, and the mother hoped to be able to draw herself away without awakening the child, but in this she was unsuccessful, and baby set up a cry which threatened to arouse the sleeping father; so Mrs. Emory hastily lifted the child and carried him into the next room. Here she deposited him on the floor, while she hurriedly dressed herself, trying to entertain him at the same time—though unsuccessfully.

When she was dressed, she took the crying child in her arms to the kitchen, where, still holding him, she lighted the fire and filled the tea-kettle. Again she made a futile effort to put the baby down, but his protesting screams overcame her resolution, and she carried him on one arm while she set the table and made further preparations for breakfast.

As long as she carried him, he was perfectly quiet; but every effort to put him out of her arms was met with rebellious cries.

In the midst of one of these attempts, the father appeared upon the scene.

“What is the matter with this child?” he exclaimed, somewhat petulantly. “Why don’t you feed him?”

“He isn’t hungry,” replied the mother.

“See how he is chewing his fists,” said Mr. Emory. “I guess he knows better than you when he is hungry. Give him something to eat.”

Mrs. Emory obeyed the suggestion, and nursed the baby between intervals of attending to the cooking. At length the meal was placed upon the table, in a somewhat disorderly fashion, and the mother seated herself with the baby in her arms.

“Can’t you put him in his chair?” asked the father.

“You know very well how he will act if I do,” replied Mrs. Emory. “He will throw everything upon the floor that he can get hold of, and scream until we can’t hear ourselves think. I can hold him here if I feed him a little.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Emory with a smile, “a baby that has four teeth can eat, and I protest against your starving him.”

“He certainly is not starved, James,” replied Mrs. Emory, “for he has been eating practically all night.”

“Well, he is old enough to eat,” asserted the father, with emphasis. “Give him some of your potato.”

This the mother did, following each mouthful with a few drops of coffee from her cup, and occasionally taking the bread from her own mouth, and putting it into the mouth of the child, who soon learned to reach up and take the bread from her lips, at which both parents laughed.

Breakfast over, Mr. Emory departed to his business, and Mrs. Emory endeavored to put the baby down long enough to do her breakfast work.

It was a hard morning. If she put the little fellow upon the floor, he cried. If she carried him in her arms he was good, but she could not work to advantage. He seemed to be constantly hungry, and yet frequent feeding did not satisfy him.

At length, in utter despair, the mother concluded to administer a soothing sirup, which was advertised as “perfectly harmless,” and which she knew would make him sleep. After two doses, the little fellow slept,—not the rosy sleep of the normal child, but with partially opened eyes and mouth, and an unpleasant pallor which would have aroused the anxiety of an understanding observer.

During the two hours of this unnatural sleep, Mrs. Emory was able to do her housework and prepare her dinner. Just before dinner the baby woke up, and she found time to wash and dress him. Then he was nursed and placed in his high chair at the dinner table—behaving just exactly as his mother had prophesied at breakfast. Everything given to him was thrown upon the floor, and his hands were constantly reaching out for the food which his parents were eating. Each of them gave him something at intervals from their own plates, and by the time the meal was ended he had received a most heterogeneous combination of articles, totally unfit for the diet of an eight-months’-old baby.

By means of lumps of sugar, Mrs. Emory was able to keep the baby quiet until she could wash the dinner dishes and dress herself for the afternoon, after which he was washed and dressed and taken out in his carriage for an airing, during which time he was comparatively good. In fact, he slept for at least half an hour.

Upon his awakening, the trials of the morning were repeated in vain efforts of the mother to entertain or pacify him, and the rebellious screams of the child when everything did not go to suit him.

“Oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Emory, as her husband entered the house at supper time. “Can’t you take this child for a little while? I am so tired, it seems as if I should drop, and I haven’t been able to do a thing toward getting supper.”

Mr. Emory responded pleasantly to this suggestion, for the child was now old enough to be played with, and therefore to be entertaining; and while the mother prepared the evening meal, father and baby had a most hilarious romp.

“Just see how good he is with me,” said the father, as he brought the laughing child into the dining-room.

But the goodness quickly vanished when an attempt was made to put him out of his father’s arms.

“I’ll carry him while you eat your supper,” said Mr. Emory, “and then you can take care of him while I eat mine.”

This plan was followed with success, Mr. Emory taking the baby again at the close of his meal, and romping with him until Mrs. Emory had done her evening work.

Then the baby was undressed, and at about half-past seven in the evening, Mrs. Emory sat down to rock the little fellow. Nearly two hours passed in this manner before the child was able to become quiet enough to sleep, so that it was really bedtime for the parents, and Mrs. Emory knew that if she did not get to bed during this first nap of the child’s, she would have the work all to do over again.

“I met Mr. Halstead as I was coming home to-night,” said Mr. Emory, “and he told me he and his wife were going to the concert. I wish you and I could go out together once more.”

“I really do not see how they can go out so much evenings,” said Mrs. Emory. “Their baby is just the same age as ours, but I know Mrs. Halstead does go out whenever she wants to.”

“Their baby must have better health than ours,” said Mr. Emory. “Perhaps that is the reason, or maybe she gives it soothing sirup at night so that it will sleep.”

“No, she doesn’t,” replied Mrs. Emory. “She objects to giving soothing sirup at any time, but, somehow, her baby is very good. I really can’t understand it. I guess it is just a matter of temperament, and something we can’t help.”

_The Second_

To follow Mrs. Halstead through the day with her baby would probably explain the problem which puzzled her neighbor, Mrs. Emory. Mrs. Halstead, unlike Mrs. Emory, had a system which originated in common sense, and which was carried out with good judgment.

On this particular day when Mrs. Halstead awoke after a comfortable night’s rest, she heard a very lovely cooing sound from the little bed near her, and glancing in that direction saw that the baby had kicked off his covers, and with his bare feet sticking straight up in the air, was having a happy time playing with his toes.

How long he had been awake, the mother did not know. On seeing her looking at him he stretched out his hands with an appealing sound, which she answered by raising him into a sitting position

and giving him a few playthings which were made fast to the bars of the crib by strings, so that they could not be thrown upon the floor, or if pushed out of the crib could be recovered by means of the strings. They were very simple playthings,—one or two clothes-pins; two or three buttons strung on a cord; an empty bottle; and an empty tin box, out of which he could make a rattle with the various small articles. These the child played with very happily while the mother was dressing. He protested a little when she left the room; but the father reached out his arms and drew the little fellow to him in the large bed, where he began amusing himself with investigating the configuration of the father’s face, being very much entertained with finding how he could make the eyelids come open.

While this entertainment was going on, Mrs. Halstead was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast. While breakfast was being eaten, baby was placed in his little carriage by the mother’s side, and entertained himself with a teaspoon and napkin ring.

Breakfast over, Mrs. Halstead put away the eatables; piled the dishes up in the sink, and then it was time for baby’s bath—a most happy time for both mother and child. This over, came baby’s breakfast, and mother enjoyed a few minutes’ rest, with a glance at a favorite magazine while baby partook of his food.

The repast being ended, baby was placed upon the floor with a new supply of articles for his entertainment; while the mother was able to wash her dishes and make the bed. Then baby was taken up for a little variation, talked to and played with for a few minutes, then made warm and dry, and laid away in his own bed for his morning nap. He smiled happily, and waved his hand to mother as she left him alone to his peaceful sleep.

During the next two hours Mrs. Halstead was able to give her time uninterruptedly to her housework and to her dinner. At twelve o’clock baby waked, was nursed, and was ready again to sit in his little wagon, gnawing away at his hard roll of bread, while his parents ate their dinner in quietness. After dinner he went down upon the floor again to play until the dishes were washed, and mother was dressed for the afternoon. Then came his ride, his supper at four o’clock; another quiet hour of play, and at half-past five o’clock he was undressed for his air bath, which he greatly enjoyed. At six o’clock he was again laid quietly to rest. In a few minutes he was soundly asleep, and Mrs. Halstead went down to a quiet evening meal with her husband with the certainty that nothing would be heard from baby until ten o’clock.

This was why Mr. and Mrs. Halstead could attend lectures, or make friendly visits; they knew that the one who was left in care of the baby would have nothing to do but to sit quietly during the entire evening.—Dr. Mary Wood-Allen.