Mombi

“ The child said this, all the time clinging to her with both her hands, in an ecstasy of panic.
"There—there, my darling," said my poor wife, "don't be afraid; there's nothing but me—your own mamma—and little baby in the room; nothing, my darling; nothing indeed."
"Mamma, mamma, don't move; don't go near him"; the child continued wildly. "It's only his back now; don't make him turn again; he's untying his handkerchief. Oh! baby, baby; he'll kill baby! and he's lifting up those green things from his eyes; don't you see him doing it? Mamma, mamma, why does he come here? ”

“ Roberta knew that Mother had written the words on purpose for her birthday. It was a little way of Mother's on birthdays. It had begun on Bobbie's fourth birthday when Phyllis was a baby. Bobbie remembered learning the verses to say to Father 'for a surprise.' She wondered if Mother had remembered, too. The four-year-old verse had been:—
Daddy dear, I'm only four And I'd rather not be more. Four's the nicest age to be, Two and two and one and three. What I love is two and two, Mother, Peter, Phil, and you. What you love is one and three, Mother, Peter, Phil, and me. ”

“ Mamma-baby! That's it. My girlie is a cry-baby, mamma-baby!" And made to slide along the divan toward her, but up flew her two small hands, like fans.
"No," she said, with the little bang back in her voice which steadied him again. "I mustn't! You see, we're so close. Sometimes it's more as if I were the mother and she my little girl."
"Alma, that's beautiful, but it's silly, too. But tell me first of all, mamma-baby, that you do care. ”

“ When I went home from my grandmother's,—being set down at the home-door by the stage-driver, in whose care I had been placed,—and found my little sister in my mother's arms, a quick growing hate of her struck its black roots in my heart. I know that this seems unnatural. In most houses the baby is the very light and joy of them,—the little idol to whom, from the least to the greatest, the whole family do willing homage. ”

“ The women, too, keep house, make calls, and play mother; and some don't do it well either. The forlorn baby's mamma never seems to cuddle and comfort him; and some day, when the little fist lies cold and quiet, I'm afraid she'll wish she had. ”

“ Is'nt mamma good?"
"Yes, Eddy," replied the nurse, "your mamma is very good; and you should love her so much, and do everything she tells you to do."
"I do love her," said the child. "Oh, I love her more than all the world; and I'm going to mind every thing she says."
Then the child went to his play, and was happy with his toys. But his thoughts were on the picture-book, and pleasantly his young imagination lingered amid its attractive pages.
"Is'nt it 'most time for mother to be home?" he asked, at the end of half an hour, coming to the side of his nurse, and gazing up into her face. ”

“ It isn't fair," said Rosemary, with a little difficulty. "Not only Dad and Bess and the maids, but you and I, too, we can't help idolizing mamma. And sometimes we never think of mother—our own mother!—except as tired and sick and struggling—that's all I remember, anyway. And mamma is all strength and sweetness and health." ”

“ If their mother can spare them, and if all their time isn’t settled out for lessons, and sewing, and taking care of the little ones, like dreadfully good girls in story-books. I’m afraid they’re a little that way, mamma—very, very regular and punctual, and their mother rather severe and particular. I’ll tell you what I’m sure she’s like, mamma. Very tall, much taller than you,”—and mamma is not little—“and black hair, quite straightly done, and rather small eyes, and a prim way of speaking.” ”

“ And she, too, even as you, a mother anywhere in the world, smiles happily into her baby's eyes as she holds him to her breast. It is a mother and child picture the like of which you will not find in any gallery of Europe. ”

“ Meta sobbed on. “I want mamma! I want mamma, who talked to me and nursed me. Mamma loved us.”
“Yes, she loved us,” he said, his heart wrung with the recollection of the past: “we shall never find any one else to love us as she loved. Meta, child, listen! Mamma lives still; she is looking down from heaven now, and sees and hears us; she loves us, and will love us for ever. ”

“ She could afford to be a little generous now.
"Oh, but Mummy, no man with a mother like you expects his wife to do for him what his mother did." They sat a moment silent. He recalled the cruelty of his first rebuke, the harsh words he had spoken. "Mummy dear," he said, slowly, "I want to tell you something. You must never think that I love her as I love you. I love her as a man ought to love the woman he marries, but no one tells you you've got to love the woman you marry as you love the woman who brought you up. ”

“ It is Mother, and again Mother who is called upon, if we need help, if we need support. The honour of motherhood lies in this, in the calling of her name in deep, sorrowful hours. Why do we not call upon our father—why just our mother? Because we feel from childhood, instinctively that Mother, means a world of love and devotion. ”

“ I don’t know how to describe it; the vain yearning, the inward fever, the restless longing for what might not be. Longing for what? For her children. Let the mother, be she a duchess, or be she an apple-woman at a stand, be separated for awhile from her little children; let her answer how she yearns for them. She may be away on a tour of pleasure for a few weeks; the longing to see their little faces again, to hear their prattling tongues, to feel their soft kisses, is kept under; and there may be frequent messages, “The children’s dear love to mamma;” ”

“ Again Bobbie clung to her Mother, and again only one word came to her, but now that word was "Daddy," and "Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!" again and again.
"Why didn't you tell me, Mammy?" she asked presently.
"Are you going to tell the others?" Mother asked.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because—"
"Exactly," said Mother; "so you understand why I didn't tell you. We two must help each other to be brave."
"Yes," said Bobbie, "Mother, will it make you more unhappy if you tell me all about it? I want to understand." ”

“ The mother sighed again and said, looking over the empty threshold, “I wish you would bear a babe, daughter. A house should have a child or two or three in it. I am not used to such an empty house as this. I wish my little son could wed if you are not to have a child, but he will not, somehow, for some reason.” ”

“ Then did the mother strain her eyes to see her son. There came forth many persons, youth tied to youth and two by two, their hands bound with hempen thongs, and each two tied to the two ahead. At first they seemed all young men, and yet here and there were maids, but hard to tell as maids, because their long hair was shorn and they wore the garments that the men did, and there was nothing to show what they were until one looked close and saw their little breasts and narrow waists, for their faces were as wild and bold as any young man’s. ”

“ He turned upon the child with admiration, for to him nothing in nature could better be likened unto his lost and lovely Alice.
“Yes, darling,” he said, kissing her again and again, “mamma was just like the twilight—sweet, tender, and soothing.”
“Then I am not at all like mamma?” she remarked, a little sadly.
“And why?”
“Because I am strong and full of life. I always feel as though it was just daylight. I never feel tired, papa, I only feel hushed.” ”

“ In tenderest rallying one day of the child who trotted after her everywhere, content to sit, or stand, or wait, if only she might touch hand or dress of "mamma," she said: "Little one (the name by which she always called me) , if you cling to mamma in this way, I must really get a string and tie you to my apron, and how will you like that?" "O mamma darling," came the fervent answer, "do let it be in a knot." ”

“ But what has this to do with Mammy? you ask. A great deal, I can assure you; for I began to fear that it was not the old nurse who had returned to us, but some strange being, who, having assumed her appearance, had not been able altogether to imitate her manner. So I kept myself aloof, and felt afraid to venture too close; but she grew thinner and paler, and my mother relieved her from all care of the children.
I slept in a small closet that opened into the nursery; and calling me very softly one night, she said, "Miss Amy, will you bring me a pitcher of water? ”

“ When poor papa lived she—"
"Abe, there's your mamma calling you down the back stairs now—you should go up to your supper. I must go, too; my landlady gets mad when I'm late—it's half past six already. Oh, I feel scared! What'll she say when she hears?"
"Scared for what, my little girl?... Yes, mamma; I'm coming!... There ain't a week passes that mamma don't say if I find the right girl I should get married. Even the other night, before I knew it myself, she said it to me. 'Abie,' she always says, 'don't let me stand in your way!'... Yes, mamma; I'll be right up!... ”

“ The mother who comes out with her babies in her arms, or sitting astride of her hips, knows nothing of our custom of caressing with a kiss, but in her maternal bursts of affection she buries her face in the neck of the child and draws in a long breath through her nostrils ”

“ When the woman heard their talk, she knew that they were her very sons and cried out to them from the chest, saying, ‘I am your mother such an one, and the token between you and me is thus and thus.’ The young men knew the token and falling upon the chest, broke the lock and brought out their mother, who strained them to her breast, and they fell upon her and swooned away, all three. ”

“ This may seem somewhat inconsistent with her habit of occasionally abandoning them in the woods or in the ditches. But she had an unbounded confidence in the kindly maternity of Nature, and trusted her children to the breast of the Great Mother as freely as she did herself in her own motherlessness. ”

“ He said I was a good little kid, mammie. Those were his very words! I tell you right now, mammie, nobody's ever going to say a word about his mother to me! Because she WAS part of him, after all, and he hates it. I never knew there was anything in the world so darling as that man! You just ought to see him in his pajamas! He's too sweet! Blue and white striped they are. ”

“ This, I say, is mortifying enough, and if modesty and good breeding carry us cheerfully through a not unfelt contrast with the assured manners and flowing draperies of Mamma’s lady friends in the drawing-room, they might spare us the announcement of what it hardly needs gold eyeglasses to discover—that we really grow every day. Blushes come heavily enough to hands and cheeks when to the shyness of youth are added the glows and chills of imperfect circulation: it does not need the stare of strangers, nor the apologies of Mamma, to stain our doubtful complexions with a deeper red. ”

“ Why art thou so cold and pale? Mamma! Mamma!”
The silken lashes are not lifted from the marble cheek; the white lips make no answer.
“She is so weary, I will not disturb her. I will watch until she wakens.”
The morning creeps away, the noon, and the afternoon, and now the evening comes.
“Mamma! my dear mamma!”
Still the eyelids are not lifted, and the white lips are dumb.
The night goes by, and a day, and another night, and the morning dawns once more. And again the woman comes peering through the door.
“She is dead,” Julie hears her say.
Men enter and carry the mother away. ”

“ The children and I have no reluctance in speaking of mamma, and we don't think of her as here or buried, but as in a fine place, happy and well.'
Here are a few short extracts from the earlier letters:—
'Cheer up, my dear sonnies! We shall see each other some day yet. Tell all your troubles to Jesus, and let Him be your friend. I, out here, think often of mamma and her nice face, and how good she was to you and to me. You will not forget her. She sees you every day, and is so pleased when you are good lads. We'll all go some day and be with her, won't that be good? ”

“ FATHER and Mother have both given us their full permission. We had expected storms, thunder-claps, and lightning flashes. I cannot yet fully realize it. I had hoped that Father would consent, but I had not dared to dream that Mamma would stand by him. We have never been estranged from one another but things are clearer now between Mamma and us, this has brought us nearer together. ”

“ When my father came home, we were walking in a garden at the back of our house, and I was shewing her mamma's geraniums, and telling her what pretty flowers they had when mamma was alive.
My father was astonished; and he said, "Is this the sullen Elinor? what has worked this miracle?" "Ask no questions," she replied, "or you will disturb our new-born friendship. Elinor has promised to love me, and she says too that she will call me 'mamma.'" "Yes, I will, mamma, mamma, mamma," I replied, and hung about her with the greatest fondness. ”

“ She was a beautiful child, with a glorious perfection of feature and complexion. "I 'm always brave. My papa says so, and my new mamma says so, too. I 've got two mammas—my new mamma and my gone-away mamma. But I like my new mamma best."
"Do you? Why?"
"'Cause she's always and always dust as good as she can be. And she never and never says 'Stop this minute!' er 'at I make her head ache, er 'at I 'm naughty, er anything. She dust puts her arms all 'round me and says, 'Dear little girl.' An' 'en I 'm good. And I love my new mamma, I do, better than my gone-away mamma." ”

“ R.—Mammy is choosing the cakes and the jam. I must say I do feel proud of doing it all by ourselves, without giving anybody extra trouble.
J.—Yes, it makes me feel as if we were such good children.
R.—So it does me.
J.—I should like to feel like this every day.
R.—Oh, I think one would soon get tired of it, you know. Oh, here comes Mammy! (They both run up to her as she comes in.) Well, Mammy, well? ”