The Fairmont West Virginian

A WORD ON PARENT MANAGING.

It is often most interesting to observe how easily a clever child can manage its parents. Some of our modern children are adepts in all the branches of the art, but one particular trick which almost every child knows is that of distracting his parents' attention from a command which he does not wish to obey.

A little neighbor of mine nominally goes to bed at half past seven o'clock. I happened to be calling there the other evening at about that hour and witnessed a little duel, the like of which evidently takes place quite regularly. The clock in the hall chimed half past seven and a worried expression crossed my hostess' face.

"Will you excuse me a moment while I start Marjorie for bed?" she asked. Of course I acquiesced.

"Come, Marjorie," she called. "It's half past seven and you know you didn't get to bed until nine last night or the night before. I want you to start promptly to-night."

"Oh, mother," from Marjorie, "please let me sit up just a few minutes. I want to finish this chapter."

"No, Marjorie, now please don't tease. You know what you promised me last night."

Marjorie carefully marked her place, closed her book and stood up. Then she looked outside the window and caught sight of the family cat outside on the piazza.

"Oh, mother, don't you want me to get Tom in? You know you said you didn't want him to stay out nights?"

"Well you may if you'll hurry," weakened Marjorie's mother.

It took ten minutes to bring Tom in, to show him off and finally dispose of him on the couch. Five minutes more were used in saying good-night to me. Again my hostess reminded Marjorie that she had promised to start promptly to-night and this time arose to accompany her up the stairs. On the way they passed the piano. Clever Marjorie caught at the last straw to save her from the ignominy of sinking into oblivion.

"Oh, mother, I want to play Miss Cameron my new piece," she said.

Maternal pride struggled with discipline. Maternal pride won a quick victory.

Marjorie played that piece and two others and artfully managed to turn the conversation upon the coming recital in which, to her mother's vast satisfaction, she was to be the youngest pupil and to play twice.

At eight-twenty-five Marjorie actually started up-stairs to bed. Marjorie is certainly a very clever little musician, but I should not advise having her trained for that profession. I think it would be wiser to have her prepare for a diplomatic career. Women will probably have entered diplomacy by the time she is of age and she will surely make her mark in it.

A word to the child who wants to control his parents: sulking will accomplish some good and teasing more, and there are a few parents who can be managed by open disobedience, but the very best trick of all: when you don't want to mind, is to distract your father's or mother's attention; study his or her weaknesses, and nine times out of ten you can defer obedience indefinitely, if not altogether escape it.