“Oh, child!” exclaimed Mrs. Huzzard, totally scandalized. “A murder! Of course it is a crime—the greatest.”
“I don’t think so. It is a greater crime to bring a soul into the world and then neglect it—let it drift into any hell on earth that nets it—than it is to send a soul out of the world, to meet heaven, if it deserves it. There are times when murder is justifiable, but there are certain other crimes that nothing could ever justify.”
“Why, ’Tana!” and Mrs. Huzzard looked at her helplessly. But Miss Slocum gave the girl a more understanding regard.
“You speak very bitterly for a young girl; as if you had thought a great deal on this question.”
“I have,” she acknowledged, promptly; “you think it is not a very nice question for girls to study about, don’t you? Well, it isn’t nice, but it’s true. I happen to be one of the souls dragged into life by people who didn’t think they had responsibilities. Miss Slocum, maybe that is why I am extra bitter on the subject.”
“But not—not against your parents, ’Tana?” said Mrs. Huzzard, in dismay.
The girl’s mouth drew hard and unlovely at the question.
“I don’t know much about religion,” she said, after a little, “and I don’t know that it matters much—now 291 don’t faint, Mrs. Huzzard! but I’m pretty certain old married men who had families were the ones who laid down the law about children in the Bible. They say ’spare the rod and spoil the child,’ and then say ‘honor your father and mother.’ They seem to think it a settled thing that all fathers and mothers are honorable—but they ain’t; and that all children need beating—and they don’t.”
“Oh, ’Tana!”
“And I think it is that one-sided commandment that makes folks think that all the duty must go from children to the parents, and not a word is said of the duty people owe to the souls they bring into the world. I don’t think it’s a square deal.”