ALUMNA'S CHILDREN. 47 



of my own,' as she wrote me. C, apparently well during college days, 

 came to decennial the mother of three children, but such an invalid 

 that she only with difficulty sat up during class dinner. D had one 

 child who died at birth, and no other has ever come to her. E, an 

 especially close friend of mine, has one child and longs for more, but 

 her physician husband is unwilling that she should again take the 

 risk, saying she was ' never meant to bear children. ' F 's case is almost 

 the same; a woman of magnificent physique, she refused to heed her 

 doctor. Her first baby lived, but she barely escaped herself; her 

 second child was sacrificed to save its mother's life; 'and I can never 

 hope for another,' she said to me, her eyes full of tears. G also would 

 not believe her physician, but her hope was finally justified. Though 

 three times she was disappointed, her fourth suffering gave her a son, 

 who, she says, much more than pays for all. H has two strong, beauti- 

 ful children. 'I wish we had six,' said her husband, a college dean, 

 by the way, 'but the two that we have cost their mother so .much that 

 we shall never have any more.' 



These women are all among my classmates, but the conditions are 

 not peculiar to my class or to my college. I could cite as many in- 

 stances among other college friends, but they are so nearly identical 

 that they would seem merely a repetition. Two friends of mine now 

 are fighting hard for the lives which have been threatened ever since 

 their first babies came, in each case over a year ago. The example of 

 greatest courage, perhaps, is not a college woman, though decidedly a 

 schooled woman. Five times she went to the very gates of death for 

 her great hope, but only once did she see the face of a living child of 

 hers, and he died at six months. 



In connection with a woman's ruling passion, I always think of 

 that gracious lady preeminent as scholar and citizen, who recently left 

 this world so much the poorer, especially for those who enjoyed the 

 distinction of her friendship. I once heard a woman ask her whether 

 she had any children. "Do you suppose," she replied, "that if I had 

 any children, I should be running around the country talking?" And 

 her tone said 'since all that my life seemed meant for, fails,' though 

 all other honors were hers, save only motherhood. 



Throughout my acquaintance, among not only my college friends 

 but also my husband's college friends, I find, it has seemed to me, a 

 large proportion of childless homes. And wherever a word has been 

 dropped in my hearing as to the feeling of the wife in the matter, it 

 has always been referred to as a great sorrow. I have been considering 

 the question for some years and have tried to receive any light that 

 appeared. 



In many homes that I know there is an only child. It may seem 

 that here are mothers who can have children but do not want them. 



