One word here as to the child on train or boat. The person who is truly well-bred will not turn and frown on the mother of the tiny baby who, suffering with colic, or sore from traveling, is wailing aloud. Of course the sound is annoying, but it is harder on the poor mortified mother than on any one else. I already hear the question, “Why doesn’t she keep the infant at home then?” Frequently she can not do this. The child may be ill, and be on its way to seashore or mountains to gain health; or the mother may be summoned to see some relative, and can not go unless the baby goes too. Whatever the cause of her going, the fact remains that she derives no pleasure from holding a screaming baby, and her discomfort is turned into positive anguish by the disgusted looks of the women, and the muttered imprecations of the men.
A KINDLY TRAVELER
I saw once under such circumstances a woman who was an honor to her sex. Opposite her in the train sat a young mother, and in her arms was a fretful wailing baby. It was evidently the first baby, and the poor girlish mother was white and weary. At every scream the baby gave she would start nervously, change the little one’s position, look about at the passengers with an expression of pathetic apology,—all the time keeping up a crooning “Sh-h-h!” that produced no effect on the crying atom of humanity. And, as is often the case, the more nervous the mother became, the more nervous did the baby grow, and the louder did he scream. An exclamation of impatience came from a woman seated behind the suffering twain, and, at the same moment, a man in front threw down his paper with a slam and rushed out of the car and into the smoker. Then the woman who was an honor to her sex came across from the seat opposite, and laid a gentle hand on the mother’s shoulder, smiling reassurance in the tear-filled eyes lifted to hers.
TRUE COURTESY
“My dear,” said the soft voice, “you are worn out, and the baby knows it. Let me take him for a minute. No, don’t protest! I have had four of my own, and they are all too big for me to hold in my arms now. I just long to feel that baby against my shoulder! Give him to me! There, now! you poor, tired little mother, put your head down on the back of the seat, and rest!”
She took the baby across the aisle, laid him over her shoulder with his head against her cheek, in the comforting way known to all baby-lovers, and in three minutes the cries had subsided and the baby was asleep in the strong motherly arms, where he lay until Jersey City was reached. And the tired little mother fell into a light slumber, too, comforted by the appreciation that she was not alone, nor an intolerable nuisance to all her fellow passengers.
Was not such an act as this woman’s the perfection of true courtesy, the courtesy that forgets itself in trying to make another comfortable?
TEACHING GOOD MANNERS