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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 22, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-06-22/ed-1/seq-14/

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THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
MOTHERHOOD IS WOMAN'S GREATEST JOY. CONFESSION 187
(Copyright, 1914, by the Newspaper
Enterprise Association.)
Eliene and the twins were at the
station to meet me" this morning
when I arrived.
"Isn't it early for your young fam
ily to bye on deck, Eliene?" I'asked as
I looked at the little flower faces with
the squinting eyes. They look just
like pink pansies blown in a fragrant
wind.
Before I could say more Eliene put
in my hands a telegram and I opened
it immediately because I knew it was
from Dick.
It was a dear telegram a night
letter (I suppose I ought to make up
my mind that if Dick does not want
to write letters I must be satisfied
with telegrams).
"I have been awfully busy, dear
est," he said, "and it looks as though
I were going to get that contract for
the geographies and spellers after all.
But I have not been too busy, dear
heart, to miss you terribly. You see,
dear, when you are traveling around
the country I cannot picture you in
that little rocking chair beside the
window.
"I've had wonderful dreams about
that little chair, Margie, and I have
even often seen you in it with a child
held close to your breast your child
and mine.
"Dear heart, I am going to stop this
telegram or the operator will think I
am bugs but I love you always."
Oh, if Dick would only write me
a letter then he would not have to
think of the "operator," and I know
it would- be a real love letter. Dick
sends me messages over the wire that
he never would say to me. He seems
to be ashamed of that little streak of
sentiment that he has and which I
Ijve best of anything in him.
Kib messages to me are ofttimes
veiy surprising. You must know,
dear diary, that I have always
thought that Dick did not care es
pecially for children, but you see he,
too, has been hoping all the while
that a babyv would come to us.
I shall never sit in that little sew
ing chair again without thinking of
what Dick, dreamed about it. I think,
too, that Dick is rather in hopes that
he will have a son before Jack, and
I am sure if he saw Eliene's twins he
would want more than one,child.
I never knew that babies were so
interesting. I am very fond of chil
dren after they are of school age, for
they are the only children I have
known, but I had always supposed
that babies until they could walk
and talk were more of a care than
anything else.
"Budge and Toddy," as Eliene calls
them, are simply heavenly; I never
get tired of them, although I can't
tell one from the other when the pink,
and blue bows are off of their re
spective but diminutive persons.
You may liken these soft, satiny
skins to the petals of a rose, their lit
tle yielding bodies to a roll of pink
velvet, but the words are inadequate
to express the exquisite sight and feel
of baby flesh.
Nothing in this world approaches
the beauty of a well-formed, well-
nourished baby. I thins it is because,"
beside all the physical attraction of
these atoms of humanity they hold a4
promise of everything this world can
give. Only a human baby can hold
this.
When I held those two babies of
Eliene's in my arms I felt a new emo
tion. Their little moist mouths on
my face and in the curve of my throat
gave me a moment of bliss that I had
never before experienced. Their
very helplessness made the greatest
appeal to my protqction I had ever
known. I realized that to a normal
woman the one greatest joy in the
world was motherhood.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)

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