20 A GREAT INSTITUTION. 



fathers are very apt to be proud. He was spending an 

 evening with a neighbor, and was asked to sing. He 

 declined, of course, giving as a reason that he never sang. 



" Why, Mr. H ," said a black-eyed little girl, of seven 



" why, Mr. H -, don't you never sing t to the baby ?" 



Sure enough ! I wonder if there ever was a civilized, a 

 human man, who never sang to the baby. I do not believe 

 that there was ever such a paradox in nature, as a man who 

 had tossed the baby up and down, ballanced it on his hand, 

 given it a ride on his foot, and yet never sang to it. I do 

 not care a fig about melody of voice, or science in quaver- 

 ing ; I am not talking about sweetness of tone ; what I mean 

 to say is, that I do not believe there is a man living, even 

 though he have no more voice than a raven, who is human, 

 and yet never sang to the baby, always assuming that he 

 has one. 



" A great institution," I repeated, half in soliloquy and 

 half to my wife. 



" What in the world are you talking about ?" said Mrs. 



H , as she took a pin from her mouth, and fastened the 



band that encircled the waist of the baby. The nurse was 

 tooking quietly on, quite willing that her work should be 

 thus taken off her hands. Will somebody tell me, if there 

 ever was a grandmother, especially one who became such 

 young, who could sit by, and see the nurse dress her first, or 

 even her tenth grandchild, while it was a helpless little 

 thing, say a foot or a foot and a half long ? The nurse is 

 so unhandy ; she tumbles the baby about so roughly, 



