The Youth's Companion/July 19, 1860/The Baby-Carriage

The Baby-Carriage.

The Baby-Carriage.

How different are the customs of savage and civilized life. If we should just peep into the wigwam of an Indian, we should see the mother of the family sitting down on the bare ground. At most, the skin of some wild animal would form the only article of upholstery. No sofa, no chair, no cricket. The baby would be lashed with thongs of deer skin to a piece of plank in the place of a cradle, and if the mother wanted to take it to any distance out of doors, she would sling it to her back.

How different is the case with both mothers and babies in a state of civilization. Just fancy their condition as above described, and then turn your eye to the cut with which we have embellished the present number; is there not a difference? See the group as they sit or stand beneath the vine-arbor. How attractive is everything about them. The two neatly dressed girls, listening to the directions of the lady while she tells them not to expose the face of the baby to the sun, as the domestic did the last time she had it out. The lady herself, so lady-like, and graceful. Above all look at the baby and its carriage; the former slumbering so tranquilly in its airy, charming little cradle, so different from the plank bed of the poor little savage. How comfortable it looks. Then the carriage—what a nice contrivance, and how much better to be wheeled about in this, than to be slung to the back of a jolting squaw. Believe me boys and girls, it is a great thing, after all, to live in a country where civilization exists. Think of it, young friends, and “be ye thankful.”