"Bless my soul!" might have been the unspoken comment of these tiny
mothers. "If we are only to love our offspring when handsome and well
clothed, then the mother-heart of society is in a bad way!"
Dolls' day was the day for lullabies. I always wished I might gather
a group of stony-hearted men and women in that room and see them melt
under the magic of the scene. Perhaps you cannot imagine the union of
garlic and magic, nevertheless, O ye of little faith, it may exist.
The kindergarten cradle stood in the centre of the circle, and the
kindergarten doll, clean, beautiful, and well dressed, lay inside the
curtains, waiting to be sung to sleep with the other dolls. One little
girl after another would go proudly to the "mother's chair" and rock
the cradle, while the other children hummed their gentle lullabies. At
this juncture even the older boys (when the influence of the music had
stolen in upon their senses) would glance from side to side longingly,
as much as to say,--
"O Lord, why didst Thou not make thy servant a female, that he might
dandle one of these interesting objects without degradation!"
In such an hour I suddenly said, "Josephus, will you be the father
this time?" and without giving him a second to think, we began our
familiar lullaby.
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