ally Yes!

It is not necessary that your little daughter should become a drudge;
that she should have imposed upon her tasks beyond her strength, or
which interfere with out-door exercise and merry in-door play. But
through all her childhood must be borne in mind the fact that she is
now in training for womanhood, that should she ever marry and have a
home of her own, the weight of unaccustomed household tasks will bend
and bruise the shoulders totally unaccustomed to burdens of any kind.

If you have a colt that in years to come you intend using as a
carriage-horse, you will not let him stand idle in the stable eating
and fattening until he is old enough for your purpose. He would then
be, in horse-parlance, so "soft" that the lightest loads would weary
and injure him. Instead of that, while still young, he is frequently
exercised, and broken in, judiciously, first to the harness, then to
draw a light vehicle, and so on, until he himself does not know when
the training ceases and the actual work begins.

The college-boy, looking forward to "joining the crew," trains for
months beforehand, walking, running, rowing, until the flaccid muscles
become as firm and hard as steel.

In America, where fortunes are made, lost, and made and lost again in
a day, we can never say confidently that our children will inherit so
much money that it will always be unnecessary for them to work. And,
even could we be sure that our daughters will marry wealthy men, we
should, for their own happiness and comfort, teach them that there is
work for everyone in this world, and certain duties which every man
and woman should perform in order to preserve his or her self-respect.

By the time your child can walk, he may begin to make himself useful.
One little boy, three years old, finds his chief delight in "helping
mamma." He has his own "baby duster" with which he assiduously rubs
the rungs of the parlor chairs until his little face beams with the
proud certainty that he is of some use to humanity, and that "dear
mamma" could not possibly have dusted that room without her little
helper. He brings her boots and gloves when she is preparing for a
walk, and begs to be allowed to put her slippers on her feet when she
returns home. Often when she is writing and he has grown weary of
play, the tender treble asks,--

"Dear Mamma, you are vewy busy. Can't I help you?"

Of course it is an interruption, and he cannot be of the least
assistance; bu