Little Susy's Little Servants

Well! did you look at yourself in the glass? If you did, you saw in the middle of your face your black, or blue or gray servants, your two eyes. No matter what color they are; one kind is as good as another kind.

As soon as Susy found out what hers could do, she kept them very busy indeed. If she wanted to see her mamma, her eyes would not wait for her to bid them let her look at her; for they knew her thoughts as well as she knew them herself. They amused her while she lay on her mamma's lap, by showing her the bright sunshine that came in at the windows, the white curtains, and the ball of gay worsted in the work-basket. When she was turned over, her face downwards, to have her frock tied, they showed her the carpet, so as to keep her from crying. When they were tired, Susy had a soft coverlid with a beautiful fringe, that she could draw down over them, and then they could rest all night. God made this coverlid on purpose. The finest cambric handkerchief is coarser; God only can make a cover soft enough for the eye.

After Susy was washed and dressed in the morning, and had had her breakfast, her mamma would lay her down upon the bed, and spread a small blanket over her. Then the busy, bright eyes would look up to the wall, and look and look at a small spot of sunshine there, till at last they grew tired, and the soft coverlid would begin to come drooping, drooping down, and Susy would be fast asleep. Or in the midst of the dark night, if she woke up and did not know what else to do, she could look at the night-lamp that sat on the floor in the corner, and wonder what it was, and how far off.

Every thing in the world was new to Susy, and as she grew older and her eyes grew stronger, they kept showing her all sorts of pretty things, and made the time pass away very quickly indeed. How pleased Susy was the first time they showed her the sweet smile of love with which her mamma looked at her! She would have jumped for joy if she had been big enough.

But while her two eyes were so busy in doing all they could to amuse her, her two ears were not idle, and one day when she was yet a very little baby, she heard a pleasant sound of bells ringing for church, that was as sweet as music. She looked surprised, and listened, and listened, and threw up her arms and smiled. After that, if she cried when she was washed, some body would rattle the tongs and shovel, or make some such queer noise, and she would stop crying to hear it. So then I suppose her ears were very glad, and now they could help her pass her time much more pleasantly than before; for they could help her hear her mamma sing, and what sort of a sound keys make when they jingle together, and all that. Susy was astonished at every thing she heard for she never had been where there were such wonderful noises before. And when Sarah put coals on the fire, Susy would start, and perhaps think it was an earthquake unless her mamma smiled, as much as to say: "Don't be frightened, darling!"

So what with her eyes, and her ears, and her soft red tongue to get dinner with, Susy was a very happy baby, growing fatter and stronger and wiser every day.

But one morning, when she was ten weeks old, Susy began to play with a plaything. What do you think it was? Why, her own little hand! She felt of it, lifted it up and looked at it, tasted of it, and admired it very much. A grave judge, sitting on his bench, and looking as wise as Solomon, could hardly look graver or wiser than Susy did when she first found out she had two little hands. How she turned them over, and tangled up the tiny fingers, and twisted and doubled them! Now she thought she had found out what those little things were for, that had been doing nothing but slap and scratch and grow fat. Why, they were to play with, to be sure! And she never would have to cry for them or get up to look for them, for there they were, always close by, and so nice and soft! So Susy played with her hands, and cooed to them, and told them stories in Greek, or Latin, or Dutch, nobody knows, and was quite cheery and happy.

Her mamma was very much pleased to see Susy playing with her hands, and after a time she offered her a little piece of paper. Susy looked at it and wanted to take it. But her hands did not know how; all they were good for was to play with each other. But they wanted to learn to hold things for Susy, and tried very hard, every day, until at last they did learn to hold her rattle for her, and then an orange, and then a bunch of keys. Nice little servants! Don't you think so? And by this time Susy made a great discovery. She found out that she had two feet of her own, and thought it would be a good plan to get one of them into her mouth. She worked very hard, before she succeeded, and was such a busy little baby that she could hardly spare time to eat her breakfast. I suppose she thought all those fat little feet were made for, was just for her to play with; just as she had thought about her hands.

Perhaps you would like to see a letter that Susy wrote to her little cousin about these times. I rather think she must have got her mamma, or some body, to write it for her.

My Dear Cousin:

Since I last wrote you, I have grown a good deal, for I am now six months old. I can not sit alone yet, for when I try, I fall over sideways. But with a pillow behind me, I can sit up very well, and play with my toys. I have an old basket half full of playthings, about which I will tell you. First I have an ivory ring, with a blue string in it; but I don't think much of that. Then I have a large glass stopper that came out of a vinegar cruet. Thirdly I have two spools tied together, and fastened to them, some how, is a whole piece of tape that I snatched out of my mamma's basket, and sucked till she said it was good for nothing, and I might as well keep it. Fourthly I have a cork that used to be in a bottle of something sweet, for it tastes very good: I am fond of this cork, and lie on the floor and play with it, just as a cat plays with a mouse. I have also a half dollar with a hole in it, that my grandmamma gave me; but I always cry when I play with it, for it is so hard it hurts my mouth. I have a great many rags that my mamma has given me. When she cuts out my little frocks, she gives me the pieces that are left, and some are white, some pink, and some blue. You see I am going to wear short frocks pretty soon. But my best playthings are two red sticks that were a part of an old fan your mamma left here. The other day I was lying on the floor, and I thought I would see how far I could get one of them down my throat. When I had pushed it a good way, I began to cry. My mamma caught me up and pulled it out, but my throat bled and was sore, so I guess I won't push it in so far, next time.

Sometimes I go and pay a visit to our old cat and her three kittens. I talk to them as loud as I can, but they do not seem to understand what I say. And they don't like it when I try to put them in my mouth.

I am sorry to say that as I increase in wisdom I grow in naughtiness. I always cry all the time mamma is washing and dressing me, and am very angry with her, for I don't like to be washed. And the moment I see her take out my basket at night, so as to undress me and put me to bed, I scream with all my might, and never stop till I feel something soft in my mouth. Last night as I lay on the floor playing with my beloved cork, mamma came behind me and unfastened all my clothes, so that time I did not cry. I have two feet that I find very handy to kick with when I am angry, and two hands that pick up my toys when I want to play, and two eyes that show me pictures and other pretty things, and that never get any rest except when I am asleep. And if you ever answer this letter, I have two ears with which I hear it read.

I am a very good baby when I wake in the morning. I lie in bed a good while, playing with my feet, or any thing else I can get hold of. Sometimes I untie mamma's cap strings and sometimes I scratch and pull her cheeks and chin. Very often I almost pull papa's nose off his face, for I don't know what he wants of it when he is fast asleep. Doesn't this remind you of old times, three or four years ago, when you were a baby? If you ever come here I shall not know what to do to amuse you, for I can not talk. I should scratch your face and pull your hair, and put my fingers in your eyes; I don't know any better, I am such a little baby. I am very tired now, and must bid you good by; but one of these days I will write you another letter.