Out of the Mouth of Babes by Eulalia Sisley-Richards

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Mar 30, 1911

Out of the Mouth of Babes

By Eulalia Sisley-Richards

EULALIA SISLEY-RICHARDS, M. D.,

“HELLO, Jim!” said John. “I haven’t seen you since that night nine or ten months ago when we journeyed together from babyland—you to Mrs. Smith’s and I to Mrs. Brown’s. How are you getting on, old fellow?”

“O, just middling, though I like Mrs. Smith better now than I did! I don’t think she knew much about babies when I first came to live with her, though she thought she did, and that was really what made it so hard for me. I hadn’t been with her many minutes before she had the nurse do me up in the tightest, stiffest, most uncomfortable thing imaginable,—a binder I think she called it. Well, I wasn’t used to such things, and of course I didn’t like it. So I cried; I didn’t know what else to do. Nurse began jolting me up and down, said I had colic. I didn’t know then what colic was, but I found out pretty quick; for as I didn’t stop crying, she gave me some brandy and water—such dreadful, burning stuff it was. That gave me a real pain; so I cried and cried until I fell asleep from exhaustion.

“Well, that was just the beginning of my troubles. When nurse went away, mother took charge of me herself; and for a while I thought it was a case of ‘out of the frying-pan into the fire.’ Every time I cried,—which was pretty often, I confess,—mother thought I was hungry, and offered me the breast, even though I had had a good meal just an hour before. So whether I was crying from cold, from colic, or from weariness, the remedy was always the same—the breast. I generally took it,—I was afraid I would hurt her feelings if I refused,—but I can tell you it used to hurt my feelings pretty badly sometimes. My! the pain I have suffered as a result of mother’s policy of ‘warm meals at all hours’ no ten-month-old baby could tell!”

“Then there’s another thing I have always blamed mother for. She never seemed to credit me with having any nerves. The way she used to jolt me up and down every time she thought I had the colic was something cruel. And all the time she was jolting me, she was patting my back vigorously. Why, it’s a wonder that all my vertebræ were not dislocated, and that my spinal cord wasn’t shattered!

“If no one but mother had mistreated me, I wouldn’t have minded it so much. I knew she didn’t know a great deal about babies, and was only practising on me. But the worst part of it was she used to let other people practise on me too. Mother always had lots of visitors, and she used to pass me about, and let all the ladies kiss me and talk nonsense to me, and shake me up generally, when the only thing I wanted was to be let alone.

“But these troubles are pretty well in the past now, or else I am getting tougher, and don’t mind them so much. My chief grievance just at present is this: Mother has the idea that babies don’t need to wear shoes and stockings. I must say I don’t understand her reasoning. It would seem to me that if anybody needed good warm clothing in cold weather, it is just such poor little helpless things as we are. I do know this, that whenever my feet get cold, I have an awful stomach-ache, and my nose gets all stuffed up, too, so that I can’t breathe through it. I don’t suppose that’s right, do you?

“But dear me! I suppose we’ve no business discussing these things. We aren’t supposed to know what is good for us, though sometimes I can’t help thinking we know as much about it as some of the grown folks who have only learned baby-culture by hearsay.

“But say, John, I haven’t given you a chance to say how it’s fared with you, I suppose you’ve had troubles of your own?”

“Well, yes; I did experience some troubles, Jim, though not the same as yours. My mother seemed to know a lot about babies from the very start. Perhaps she had been reading some health books and magazines before I came. Everything went like clockwork, I can tell you. My bath, meals, exercise,

and sleep were all timed by the clock. I didn’t like it very well at first, but soon I came to like it immensely; wouldn’t have it any other way, you know.

“But say! I never shall forget one little experience I had. I was only a little chap, and didn’t fancy the idea of being put to bed awake, and being left to go to sleep alone. I had heard that some babies are always rocked to sleep at night, and I thought that would be rather a pleasant arrangement. Mother evidently didn’t think so; for after preparing me as usual for sleep, she put me in my little bed, turned the gas down very low, and then joined father in the sitting-room. I was perfectly comfortable, but quite unhappy; so after considering the matter a few moments, I began to cry lustily. I expected mother would come to see what was the trouble, and so she did. She examined me and my immediate surroundings carefully to see if anything was the matter. Finding that nothing wrong, she at once laid me down gently, tucked me in snugly, and went away again.

“I didn’t intend to be beaten, so I kept on crying and crying as loud as I could. I felt certain that mother would come back again soon; but she didn’t. You can imagine what a shock it was to find that my crying didn’t move her in the least. Well, I kept it up for a time, still hoping feebly that mother would come and take me up again. But hope deferred maketh the heart sick, and I finally gave it up. The next morning mother was just as sweet and loving as ever; in fact, I think a little more so; but I made up my mind it wasn’t worth while trying that trick again—and I didn’t.

“But this experience was only play compared to another one I had a few months later. Mother was called out of town on account of grandmother’s illness; so she left me in charge of a nurse. She was supposed to be what they call a trained nurse; but I am sure her education must have been neglected, for she didn’t even know that babies sometimes get thirsty. She gave me my food regularly, but never a drop of water for days and days. I didn’t miss it much at first (though mother had always given me several drinks every day); but after a while I became terribly thirsty. I fretted and fussed and cried by turns, but nurse didn’t appear to know what was the matter with me; in fact, I heard her tell the maid that she thought I was a very bad-tempered baby. I tried to tell the maid that I thought I had a very stupid nurse, but she didn’t understand me. Well, I suffered on, until one night about a week after mother went away, things reached a climax. I felt I couldn’t stand it any longer; in fact, I was half crazed with thirst. I screamed and screamed and SCREAMED until I drove nurse nearly to distraction. She offered me food; she put a hot-water bottle on my stomach; she did everything that could possibly be done to a baby except to give it a drink of water! Needless to say, I continued crying. Nurse concluded that either I was ill and required a doctor or else I was wicked and required punishment. How the case would have been decided I do not know; for just at this point (about 10 P. M.) mother appeared on the scene. She took me up in her arms while she asked nurse a few direct questions about the state of my health; and then to my infinite relief, she sent for a glass of water, saying, ‘Perhaps the little chap is thirsty.’ I drank what in my eagerness I didn’t spill. Except that nurse looked a bit ashamed, I have no remembrance of anything further; for my head fell over on mother’s shoulder, and I was fast asleep.

“But apart from these two experiences, Jim, I can’t recall any trouble worth mentioning. In fact, I think I am one of the luckiest youngsters in town! And in spite of the bad character nurse gave me, mother declares that I am a wonderfully good baby! I suppose she knows.”

Wahroonga, New South Wales.