Our own children are intensely interesting; the children of other people are, as a rule, not! Let us, once in a while, put ourselves in the place of another person, and think if we are willing to have that person’s child always in the room when we would talk confidentially with her. I think if we are frank we shall acknowledge that while we do not mind the presence of our own children, we do talk more freely when other people’s children are not present. Said a man not long ago:
“Mrs. Brown is a marvelous woman. She is one of the most devoted mothers I know. Her children are with her a great part of the time. Yet, whenever I call there, alone or with a friend, a signal from her empties the drawing-room or library of the entire flock of five infants, and she is just as much interested in what her callers have to say as if she had no youngsters cruising about in the offing.”
TRAINING THE SHY CHILD
It is not to be supposed that children are never to be allowed to come into the drawing-room. They should be trained to enter the room, greet the guests politely and without embarrassment, answer frankly and straightforwardly, and to speak when spoken to. Then, they should be silent unless drawn into the conversation. The truest kindness is, after a few moments, to let the little ones run away and play with their toys or in the outdoor air.
The child who hangs his head shyly, and refuses to speak politely to any one who addresses him, should be taught the courtesy of friendliness. From the cradle a baby may be taught to “see people,” and, as soon as he is old enough to return a greeting, he must be trained to do so.
The only way to make small ladies and gentlemen of children is to teach, first of all, perfect obedience. This is, in this day, an unpopular doctrine, for there is prevalent a theory that the child must be allowed to exercise his individuality,—in other words, to do as he pleases. Why the child should develop his individuality, and the parents curb theirs, may be matter for wonder to those not educated up to this twentieth-century standard of ethics. If “days should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom,” the father and mother are better fitted to dictate to the child than the child to dictate to them. And yet, in the average home, the last-mentioned form of government often prevails.
FIRMNESS IN CONTROL
Nothing is more unkind than to allow a child to do always as he pleases, for, as surely as he lives, he must learn sooner or later to yield to authority and to exercise self-control. The earlier the training begins, the easier it will be. The child creeping about the room soon knows that the gentle but firm “No!” when spoken by the mother means that he must not touch the bit of bric-à-brac within reach. And even this lesson will stand him in good stead later on.
The basic principle of home government must be love enforced by firmness. A punishment should seldom be threatened, but if threatened, must be given. The time for threat and punishment is not in public. In the parlor, on the train or boat, it is the height of ill-breeding to make a scene and to threaten a punishment of any kind. Were the child properly trained in private, parents and beholders would be spared the humiliating spectacle that too often confronts them in visiting and traveling.