898 
Z The  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
A  Safe  and  Sane  Fourth 
By  Josiah  Allen’s  Wife 
The  morning  <>f  the  Fourth  dawned 
bright  and  peaceful  on  the  beautiful 
shores  of  Jonesville.  And  like  that 
golden  light  streamin’  through  the  white 
curtains  of  my  east  winder  in  a  flood  of 
glory,  jest  so  the  though rs  of  the  glor¬ 
ious  things  the  Bay  stood  for  streamed 
into  my  soul,  mingled  with  reverent 
thoughts  of  our  old  four  fathers  and 
four  mothers,  and  what  they  had  went 
through  to  leave  to  Josiah  and  me  and 
the  rest  of  posterity  such  countless 
blessin’s. 
Peace!  Liberty!  Independence!  Oh 
wlmt  a  propput.v  to  leave  to  us.  Hadn't 
we  ort  to  be  happy  and  thankful  enjoyin’ 
what  they  fit  and  bled  and  suffered  so 
for? 
1  probably  had  over  forty  emotions  a 
minute  meditatin’  on  the  greatness  of 
our  country  and  how  it  stood  up  as  a 
lighthouse  for  the  world,  and  should 
probably  had  more  on  ’em  only  Josiab’s 
voice  interrupted  my  rapt  musin’s  say- 
in’  : 
"Samantha,  the  fire  is  built  and  break¬ 
fast  ort  to  be  started !” 
I  wuz  never  one  to  let  sentiment  stand 
in  the  way  of  duty,  and  so  I  riz  up  im- 
megiately,  but  my  loyal,  patriotic  emo¬ 
tions  riz  up  with  me,  and  I  gazed  grate 
fully  and  fondly  onto  the  picture  of 
George  .Washington  whilst  T  wuz  a  lac¬ 
in’  up  my  shues.  and  my  beautiful  rever¬ 
ent,  emotions  still  held  ray  head  up  nobly 
as  I  ground  my  coffee  and  brilod  my 
lamb  chops,  till  jest  as  I  wuz  takin’  up 
my  hot  rolls  a  tremengous  noise  come 
from  the  backyard  and  scattered  my  riz- 
up  emotions  like  chaff  before  a  tornado, 
and  I  called  wildly  to  my  pardner: 
"Josiah,  is  it  a  German  bom  descend¬ 
in’  onto  us?  Or  is  it  a  Zeppelin  landin’ 
on  the  henhouse?” 
“No.”  he  yelled  out.  “it  is  sunthin’ 
worse:  it  is  them  little  rascals  of  Stag- 
gleses  celebratin’  the  Fourth  !” 
And  he  run  out  bare-beaded  and  I 
heard  him  orderin’  them  and  their  fire¬ 
crackers  out  of  the  yard  with  language 
oufittin’  for  a  Methodist  to  utter,  and 
much  less  a  deacon,  and  I  told  him  so 
when  he  come  in.  And  then  he  yelled 
at  me  enough  to  take  mv  bead  off : 
“Do  you  want  the  haystack  set  fire  to 
by  ’em  as  it  wuz  last  year?” 
“No,  fur  from  it.”  sez.  I. 
“Well,  then  shot  up  !”  sez  lie.  And  he 
went  on  and  wished  seeli  fool  doin’s  wuz 
confined  to  a  place  I  won’t  mention,  only 
Bayin'  that  it  wuz  a  place  where  fire¬ 
works  wuz  to  be  expected. 
But  I  sez.  “It  is  their  pa's  doin’s. 
Hiram  Staggles  boasts  that  lie’s  bringin’ 
up  his  children  to  be  patriotic  and  loyal 
'and  lie  wants  ’em  to  celebrate.” 
“Can’t  the  poor  fools  celebrate  without 
breakin’  folkses  ear-drums  and  burnin’ 
’em  out  of  house  and  bum?  If  T  hadn't 
been  here  last  year  the  bull  premises 
would  have  gone  with  their  hot  fire¬ 
works.  I  d’no  what,  you’re  goin’  to  do. 
Samantha.  I've  got  lo  go  to  the  factory 
with  the  milk.” 
Sez  I  sootkin’ly,  “I'll  go  right  over  to 
Mis’  Stagg'leses  and  ask  her  to  keep  the 
children  to  home  this  mornin'.’’ 
“And  mebby  you'll  be  sot  fire  to  on 
the  way.”  sez  he  with  a  gloomy  anxious 
look  on  his  linement.  "Yon  know  how 
Con  delick  Henzy’s  wife  wuz  sot  fire  to 
last  Fourth ;  firecrackers  wuz  tin-owed 
right  into  the  buggy  and  the  fire  started 
oil  her  and  it  wuz  all  Condelick  could 
do  to  put  her  out." 
“I  know  it."  sez  I.  “But  that  wuzn’t 
so  bad  as  Sam  Cowdev's  little  boy  up 
to  Zoar,  who  wuz  hit  by  a  torpedo  and 
both  his  eyes  put  out.  made  him  stun 
blind.” 
“And  that  very  day,”  sez  Josiah. 
“Nate  Haskins  internal  insides  wuz  so 
smashed  in  by  the  bustin’  on  him  of  a 
old  rusty  caunon  that  lie’s  a  invalid  for 
life  and  his  fambl.v  on  the  town.” 
“Yes,”  sez  I.  “and  his  grandma,  old 
Mis’  Haskins,  wuz  skairt  into  a  condi¬ 
tion  fit  and  never  come  out  on’t,  and 
three  years  ago  today  Tlett.v  Snyder  and 
her  bo  wuz  throwod  out  of  the  buggy  at 
Loon  town  by  firecrackers  scarin’  the 
horse  and  her  spine  injured  so  she  haiu’t 
never  walked  a  step  since,  and  her  bo 
broke  his  nose,  so  lie’s  got  to  go  snub¬ 
nosed  through  life,  and  mateless.  for  he 
won't  look  at  another  girl,  and  she  can’t 
marry  with  her  back  broke;  and  I  can 
count  up  more'n  forty  other  accidents 
that  has  took  place  on  Fourth  of  Julys 
within’  five  miids  of  here.” 
•  “And  mebby  this  year  we  will  head  the 
list,”  sez  he.  lookin’  gloomily  at  the 
barn  aud  haystack. 
“No  we  won’t.”  sez  I  soothin’  on  him, 
“I’ll  go  and  see  Tamer  Staggles  the  first 
thing;  she’s  a  good  woman  and  will  do 
right.” 
“She  would  if  she  had  her  way.”  sez 
Josiah.  “But  lly  Staggles  is  one  of  the 
big  fools  that  thinks  that  he  and  his 
children  can't  love  their  country  without 
makin'  a  nuisance  and  a  danger  of  them¬ 
selves  to  everyone  round  'em  once  a  year 
'tennyrate.” 
” Well,*’  sez  I.  “it  is  a  good  thing  they 
don’t  every  day;  some  folks  do  fool 
things  all  the  year  round.” 
I  always  do  try  to  look  on  the  bright 
side  of  things  and  show  ’em  up  to  my 
pardner.  And  he  started  off  for  the 
cliee.se  factory  lookin’  a  little  less  worried 
and  1  went  over  to  Mis'  Staggleses. 
It  wuz  a  dretful  hot  day;  I  had  to  take 
my  pum  leaf  fan  along  and  then  my 
face  wuz  covered  with  presperation  and 
sweat  when  I  got  there.  And  I  found 
Tamer  Staggles  washin*  dishes  in  a  real 
nervimis  state.  She  looked  pale  as  a 
white  cotton  shirt,  and  as  she  is  natural¬ 
ly  red-cheeked,  I  sez : 
“What  is  the  matter,  Tamer,  you 
look  gashly.” 
But  before  she  could  speak  I  had  a 
thunderin'  reply  to  my  question,  a  noise 
from  the  woodshed  enough  to  shake  the 
house  aud  break  ear-pans.  Tamer  bein’ 
so  nervious  and  unstrung  jumped  about 
a  foot,  and  then  run  out  dishcloth  in 
hand.  And  I  bourn  a  loud  altercation. 
Turner’s  skairful  pleudin'  axel  its  mixed 
with  loud  "hooraws  for  the  Fourth  of 
Julia”  and  boasts  of  what  they  had  done 
and  wuz  agoin'  to  do,  aud  quarrelin’ 
fearful  about  who  should  start  off  the 
next  fireworks.  But  I  hearu  her  tell  ’em 
not  to  go  nigh  Josiah  Allen's.  But  an¬ 
other  loud  volley  of  firecrackers  kep’  me 
from  bearin'  their  reply. 
Tamer  conn'  in  and  sunk  into  chair, 
lookin’  gashly  white  and  sez; 
“I  don’t  see  how  I’m  goin’  to  stand  it 
through  the  day,  I’m  expectin’  all  the 
time  some  of  the  children  will  git  killed, 
and  I  fed  as  if  I  wuz  in  danger  of  ray 
own  life.  I’ve  been  sot  fire  to  three 
times  this  mornin’,  the  children  are  so 
careless  with  their  firecrackers.  I  begged 
Hiram  not  to  let  the  children  have  fire¬ 
works  this  year,  but  he  said:  ‘If  I  didn’t 
have  any  patriotic  foelin's  lie  did.  and 
the  children  should  be  brought  up  to  love 
and  honor  their  country.’  ” 
.  “And  kill  tlicir  mother,  and  burn  up 
their  neighbors.”  sez  I  to  myself,  but  I 
didn’t  say  it  out  loud,  and  Tamer  re- 
soomed  : 
“I  wuz  dreadin’  today  so  that  I  didn’t 
git  to  sleep  till  most  mornin’,  and  then 
the  children  fired  a  sunrise  salute  right 
under  my  winder,  and  I  jumped  up  half 
asleep  and  kptchvd  holt  of  a  handful  of 
sunthin’  the  Highest  to  me.  and  it  hap¬ 
pened  to  be  Mr.  Staggleses  hair  and  I 
most  pulled  it  out  by  the  roots.’’ 
“I  wish  to  gracious  you  had.”  I  sez 
to  myself  agin,  but  not  aloud:  no.  I 
uphold  no  woman  in  scalpin’  her  pard¬ 
ner. 
“I  spoze  Mr.  Staggles  is  right."  sez 
Tamer,  tryin’  feebly  to  stand  up  for  her 
pardner.  as  females  will,  “men  are  so 
brave.  But  I  told  him  this  mornin'  that 
it  seemed  as  if  I  spent  half  the  year 
dreadin’  the  day  and  the  other  half  git- 
tin’  over  the  effects  on’t.  You  know  how 
Billy  got  hurt  last  Fourth  and  haiu’t 
got  over  it  yet.” 
“I  know,”  sez  I,  “he  looks  real 
spindlin’.” 
"I  worry  about  him  d  ret  fully,  but  Mr. 
Staggles  sez  that  our  old  four  fathers 
went  through  worse  than  this.” 
“I  know  they  did.”  sez  I.  as  another 
ear-breakiu’  noise  reverbrated  through 
(lie  house.  “They  fit  aud  bled  to  give 
us  peace,  and  it  seems  a  pity  what  they 
worked  so  bard  to  give  us,  we  can't 
have  a  chance  to  enjoy,  for  how  can  you 
have  peace  in  Bedlam?” 
“Hi'  thinks  I  don’t  honor  the  country 
enough.”  sez  Tamer  agin,  lookin’  fear¬ 
fully  deprested. 
“Duz  he  think  it  is  any  honor  to  the 
country  to  have  you  skairt  to  death  and 
Sot  fire  to  and  so  forth,  and  face  the 
day  of  days  tremblin'  with  fear  and  anx¬ 
iety  instead  of  joy  and  thankfulness? 
Our  . . .  fathers  fit  for  peace  and  we  ort 
to  have  it  this  day  of  all  others.” 
Tamer  looked  so  fagged  out  as  she  sot 
there  and  the  noise  outside  wuz  so  voylent 
and  incessant  that  T  sez  encouragin'ly : 
“Well,  it  won’t  be  long  that  you’ll  be 
alone.  I  spoze  Hiram  will  be  back  pret¬ 
June  17,  191G. 
ty  soon  and  tlmn  he’ll  help  you  take,  care 
of  the  children.” 
“No.”  sez  she,  her  linement  lookin' 
sadder  than  ever,  “he’s  goin*  to  spend  the 
day  in  Loontown;  lie’s  in  the  fat  man’s 
race.” 
“Race!”  sez  I.  “I  should  think  it 
would  be  all  Hiram  Staggles  could  do 
to  git  round  at  all  this  hot  day  without 
racin’;  lie  weighs  three  blind  red,  don’t 
be?” 
“Three  hundred  and  twenty -three 
five.”  sez  she,  “and  that  is  another  awful 
worry  to  me.  I  most,  know  racin’  in  this 
hot  sun  will  molt  him  down,  and  he 
dreads  it  himself.  He  said  that  noth¬ 
in’  but  love  for  his  country  and  wantin’ 
to  honor  her  would  hold  him  up  through 
it.” 
“I  d’no  wliat  honor  the  country  will 
git  from  a  dozen  fat  old  men  racin’ 
through  the  streets  of  Loontown  on  a 
wager,  or  straddlin’  way  out  on  a  greased 
pole  over  the  water,  tryin’  to  reach  a 
dollar  or  so  on  the  end  on’t,  or  tryin'  to 
run  tied  up  in  a  bran  sack.  T  shouldn’t 
feel  honored  by  it  if  I  wuz  the  country.” 
roz  I  firmly.  “But  won’t  .Toe  Filkins.  the 
hired  man,  be  here  to  help  you  with  the 
children  ?” 
“No.  lie's  in  the  lean  man's  race,  and 
afterwards  leads  the  fantasticks  as  a 
bean  pole.  No,  I’ve  got  to  git  along 
alone,  and  it  seems  as  if  I  can’t  hold 
my  head  up.” 
(To  he  continued.) 
Help  the  Stammering  Child 
While  true  that  many  cases  of  stam¬ 
mering  in  early  childhood  recover  spon¬ 
taneously  with  advancing  years,  there  are 
so  many  that  do  not  that  this  must  ser¬ 
ious  handicap  to  social  and  business  suc¬ 
cess  should  never  be  ignored.  A  child 
who  stammers  is  apt,  as  be  grows  older, 
to  become  more  and  more  sensitive  with 
regard  to  his  affliction  and  to  refuse  to 
take  his  rightful  part  in  the  activities  of 
life.  lie  is  thus  kept  from  the  fullest 
development  of  which  he  is  capable,  and 
life,  for  him,  loses  many  of  its  possi¬ 
bilities. 
As  the  majority  of  cases  of  stammer¬ 
ing  begin  in  early  childhood,  it  is  upon 
the  mother  that  the  child  must  largely 
depend  for  help  aud  fortunate  is  the 
mother  who  finds  in  the  family  physician 
one  who  is  willing  to  qualify  himself  to 
become  her  adviser  and  helper.  It  need 
not  lie  expected  that  the  general  prac¬ 
titioner  will  be  an  expert  in  so  special  a 
line  of  work,  but  he  is  in  position  to  ac¬ 
quire  a  working  knowledge  of  the  funda¬ 
mental  needs  of  Stammerers  and  so  to 
become  a  helpful  counsellor. 
Stammering  is  a  habit,  but  it  is  more 
than  a  habit.'  particularly  in  its  early 
manifestations.  It  is  probably  never  due 
to  being  “tongue-tied,”  or  to  defective 
organs  of  speech:  neither  is  it  a  heredi¬ 
tary  disorder  to  which  a  child  is  con¬ 
demned  because  some  other  member  of 
the  family  was  so  afflicted.  It  is  really 
a  complex  nervous  affection  in  which  the 
immature  mid  developing  emotional  life 
of  the  child  reacts  upon  the  equally 
immature  and  undeveloped  power  of 
speech.  Talking  is  an  art  that  has  to 
be  learned;  nfttimes  with  many  a  pain¬ 
ful  struggle;  the  control  of  the  emotions 
•  >f  fear  and  embarrassment  is  also  an 
art  which  even  the  adult  never  fully  ac¬ 
quires.  To  appreciate  the  close  relation¬ 
ship  between  defective  . . eh  and  em¬ 
barrassment,  one  has  only  to  recall  some 
stuttering  utterance  of  his  own  when 
overcome  by  fear  or  other  powerful  emo¬ 
tion. 
As  the  underlying  emotional  cause  of 
childish  stammering  is  lack  of  self-con¬ 
fidence  and  boldness,  it  will  lie  seen  how 
foolish  are  the  attempts  t<>  cure  it  by 
mocking  the  halting  attempts  at  speech. 
All  children  arc  sensitive  to  ridicule; 
stammering  children  are  particularly  so, 
and  anything  that  increases  the  child’s 
embarrassment  tends  only  to  confirm  the 
habit  which  it  is  desired  to  overcome. 
Their  great  need  is  increased  self-reliance 
that  they  may  overcome  that  social  fear 
of  others  which  is  part  of  human  nature. 
Stammering  sometimes  has  its  begin¬ 
ning  in  some  great  nervous  shock,  or  in 
some  illness.  In  order  that  a  vigorous 
body  may  contribute  to  a  well-balanced 
emotional  life  there  is  sometimes  need 
of  wholesome  food,  outdoor  life  and  gen¬ 
erally  good  hygienic  surroundings.  Par¬ 
ticularly  important  among  the  latter  may 
be  mentioned  opeu  windows  at  night. 
