|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 50
Listen! and hear the tea-kettle sing:
"Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!"
It matters not how hot the fire,
It only sends its voice up higher:
"Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!
Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!"
Listen! and hear the tea-kettle sing:
"Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!"
As if 't were task of fret and toil
To bring cold water to a boil!
"Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!
Sing a-sing a-sing a-sing!"
NOW, OR THEN?
BY GAIL HAMILTON.
I suppose the wise young women--fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years
old--who read ST. NICHOLAS, who understand the most complex vulgar
fractions, who cipher out logarithms "just for fun," who chatter
familiarly about "Kickero" and "luliuse Kiser," and can bang a piano
dumb and helpless in fifteen minutes--they, I suppose, will think me
frivolous and unaspiring if I beg them to lay aside their
science,--which is admirable,--and let us reason together a few minutes
about such unimportant themes as little points of good manners.
A few months ago I had the pleasure of talking with a gentleman who
thought he remembered being aroused from his midnight sleep by loud
rejoicings in the house and on the streets over the news that Lord
Cornwallis had surrendered the British to the American forces. He was
only two years old at that time; but, he said, he had a very strong
impression of the house being full of light, of many people hurrying
hither and yon, and of the watchman's voice in the street penetrating
through all the din with the cry--"Past twelve o'clock and Cornwallis
is taken!"
Among many interesting reminiscences and reflections, this dignified
and delightful old gentleman said he thought the young people of to-day
were less mannerly than in the olden time, less deferential, less
decorous. This may be true, and I tried to be sufficiently deferential
to my courtly host, not to disagree with him. But when I look upon the
young people of my own acquaintance, I recall that William went, as a
matter of course, to put the ladies in their carriage; Jamie took the
hand luggage as naturally as if he were born for nothing else; Frank
never failed to open a door for them; Arthur placed Maggie in her chair
at table before he took his own; Nelly and Ruth came to my party just
as sweet and bright as if they did not know that the young gentlemen
whom they had expected to meet were prevented from attending; while
Lucy will run herself out of breath for you, and Mary sits and listens
with flattering intentness, and Anne and Alice and--well, looking over
_my_ constituency, I find the young people charming.
It is true that all manners are less formal, that etiquette is less
elaborate, now than a hundred years ago. Our grandfathers and
grandmothers--some, indeed, of our fathers and mothers--did not sit at
breakfast with their fathers and mothers, but stood through the meal,
and never spoke except when spoken to. I cannot say I think we have
deteriorated in changing this. The pleasant, familiar, affectionate
intercourse between parent and child seems to me one of the most
delightful features of domestic life. The real, fond intimacy which
exists between parents and children seems a far better and safer thing
than the old fashion of keeping children at arm's length.
But in casting aside forms we are, perhaps, somewhat in danger of
losing with them some of that inner kindness of which form is only the
outward expression. Without admitting that we are an uncivil people,
insisting even that we compare favorably with other nations, I wish our
boys and girls would resolve that the courtesy of the Republic shall
never suffer in their hands!
Does this seem a trivial aim for those who are bending their energies
to attain a high standing in classics and mathematics? There is perhaps
no single quality that does as much to make life smooth and
comfortable--yes, and successful--as courtesy. Logarithms are valuable
in their way, but there are many useful and happy people who are not
very well versed even in the rule of three. A man may not know a word
of Latin, or what is meant by "the moon's terminator," or how much
sodium is in Arcturus, and yet be constantly diffusing pleasure. But no
man can be agreeable without courtesy, and every separate act of
incivility creates its little, or large, and ever enlarging circle of
displeasure and unhappiness.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|