n the
baby is two or three days old, he is so new to us and we have waited
for him so long, and it is such a great big world that he has come
into, that we jump, dance, and scramble to attend to his every need
and adequately to provide for his every want. At this very early,
tender age whenever he opens his mouth to cry or even murmur--some
fond auntie or some overly indulgent caretaker flies to his side as if
she had been shot out of a gun, grabs him up and ootsey tootsey's him
about as she endeavors to entertain and quiet him. The next time and
the next time and the succeeding time he whimpers--like a flash
someone dashes to the side of the basket, and baby soon learns that
when he opens his mouth and yells, somebody comes. In less than a week
the mischief has been done and baby is badly spoiled. No other factor
enters so largely into the sure "spoiled" harvest as picking a new
baby up every time he cries. Often in the early days some indulgent
parent will say, "Oh, don't turn out the light, something might happen
to the dear little thing"--and old Mother Nature sees to it that a
constant repetition of "leaving the light on" brings its sure harvest
of "he just won't go to sleep without the light." And then, "just
once" he had the pacifier--perhaps to prevent his crying disturbing
some sick member of the family--and so we go on and on. If a thing is
bad, it is bad, and a supposedly good excuse will not lessen the evil
when the habit has been thus started and acquired.

The rocking of babies to sleep may be a beautiful portrayal of mother
love, but we all pity the child who has to be rocked to sleep as much
as we do the mother who sits and rocks, wanting, Oh, so much! to do
some work or go for a walk--but she must wait till baby goes to
sleep.

THE TEMPER CRY

And so now we come to the temper cry--that lusty, strong outburst of
the cry of disappointment when he finds that all of a sudden people
have stopped jumping and dancing for his every whim. The baby is not
to blame. We began something we could not keep up, and he--the
innocent recipient of all our indulgences--is in no sense at fault. It
is most cruel to encourage these habits of petty indulgence, which
must cause so much future disappointment and suffering on the part of
the little fellow as he begins to grow up.

Nobody is particularly attracted to the spoiled baby. After the
over-indulgent parent and caretaker have completed their thoughtless
work, they