ining. But at this age they begin to say
funny things, and so are interesting. "You only care for them when
they amuse you!" cried a young mother once, indignant at my
selfishness. I suppose it is a selfish way of looking at it; but if
modern children were brought up as we were brought up I should not
object to them in the least. We were always kept strictly in the
nursery, only appearing down-stairs on the rarest occasions: and when
we arrived there we behaved properly--we were seen and not heard. We
did not run noisily up and down the room, taking up the whole
conversation of the party. We did not try to make the most
disagreeable personal remarks; or if we did we were sent up-stairs at
once, and not laughed at for our "sharpness."

There are no children, now-a-days; they are mimic men and women. They
dine late, they stay up until the small hours, and are altogether as
objectionable a faction as can be. They respect their father and
mother not a whit. It was only two or three days ago I heard a child
of five allude to her father as "the fat old governor," and simply get
laughed at for her remark, no one joining more heartily than the said
parent himself. Of course, with such applause, the child repeats it
again and again.

They have such dreadfully sharp eyes, too, these children. Not a
defect escapes their notice. You tremble to hear what will come out
next. They ask Mr. Jones what makes his nose so red. They want to know
why Mrs. Smith puts flour on her face. In spite of a thick veil, they
discover at once that Miss. Blank has a moustache, and inquire of her
with interest if she is a man!

There are some nice children, of course--there are exceptions to every
rule--and if they are pretty I cannot help admiring them. It is
fortunate that I have never had anything to do with children. If I
were a governess I should be so dreadfully unjust, I should always
favor the pretty ones. I love beauty in any form. There are girls I
could sit and look at all day, if they would let me. Only they are
most of them so self-conscious; they expect to be admired, and when I
see girls laying themselves out for admiration, however beautiful they
may be, however strong my inclination to gaze, I will not gratify
their vanity. For it is certainly true, that though we prefer the
praise of men, we do not disdain any like offering from our own sex.

That is the best of very young children. They do not notice you, they
are not yet awake to