Uucultlvatril Parentage,
Mrs. H. H. T. in Boston BnigoL
But truth compels me to turn to another
side; the petulant, irritable, uncultivated side
of child life, where children scold and fret and
sometimes almost fight over their toys and
play, where they grow up selfish and unkindly
disposed towards one another, who, after ar
riving at maturity, go their ways, separate
from the family nest, and like wild animals
who recognize no relatione, forget that they
sprang from one parentage. Such unculti
vated people as theso generate family feuds,
and keep them up for themselves and neigh
bors to gossip about It is uncultivated parent
age that produces such a sad result When I
was a' girl my mother used to send me on er
rands to the house of an acquaintance. I
shall never forget the scenes I saw there,
though they lived in quite an elegant
house, while all was exceedingly neat One of
the young ladios, by an accident I am sure
quite jinx voidable, broke a flower-pot of trifling
value. The father, who happened to be at
home, turned upon her with a terrible invec
tive his eyes almost dilated from their sockets,
while mother, sistors and brothers all joined
in harsh censure at her caroltmsnesa. A half
hour, at least, passed liefore tho subject was
dropped. Homo years after I was at a sewing
society hold at this house. During the even
ing odo of tho young gentlemen accidentally
hit tho tall lamp, breaking a handsome shade.
I remember now how I trembled for that
young man, but tho master said not a word.
