* * * * *

But for disinterestedness, never mind mammie: give me grannie's love.
God ought to spare grandmammas; they never ought to die, the dear,
lovely grannies!

'Haven't you a grandma?' once asked a little boy of another. 'No? Well,
you should get one!' True, no child should be without one.

Victor Hugo said he submitted to one tyranny only, that of children.
The author of 'The Art of being Grandfather' was right: that tyranny
ought not only to be submitted to, but proclaimed. And who better than
a grandmother will submit to the tyranny of a child? The sacrifices
they will be capable of are superhuman, epic. I know one who charms
away the last days of her life by a dainty little supper of biscuit and
cream-cheese brought to her every day. She never now comes down in the
evening, and that frugal repast is taken up to her when dinner is about
over.

Her little granddaughter once came up to her room crying bitterly. She
was in disgrace, and had been sent away from table before the
appearance of the pudding.

'Grannie,' she said, 'I am not to have any pudding; you ought not to
have your cream-cheese.'

'But, darling,' pleaded grandmamma, throwing a loving glance at the
little dish of her predilection, 'I haven't been naughty.'

'Never mind; you ought not to have any when your little girl cannot
have any pudding.' And the little tyrant cried more bitterly than ever.

Grannie rang the bell, ordered the favourite cream-cheese to be taken
away, and, drying the little girl's tears, supped that night off a bit
of bread-and-butter.

Antiquity has not recorded anything like it.

People say that mothers are prejudiced in favour of their children. Of
course they are. We are all of us prejudiced in favour of what belongs
to us, especially if it is of our own manufacture. But for the opinion
held of a child, give me grannie's--that is sublime.

Once a lady of my acquaintance, on a visit to her mother, was in the
drawing-room with her own little girl on her knees. Grandmamma, in
ecstasy, was worshipping baby, challenging the world to produce such
another. A lady called, took some notice of the child, and talked a
great deal about her own baby, a great deal too much to please
grandmamma, at any rate. When the visitor had gone, the dear old lady
gave expression to her feelings:

'How silly women are, to be sure! Did you hear that woman talk and talk
about her child? Good heavens! on