Washington Standard

The Bachelor and the Boy
"What shall I do?" and the dull bachelor stamped about the sitting room in a perfect rage of doubt, looking first at the napping babe, in the little willow cradle, then at the busy French clock on the shelf.
"As sure as my name is Joseph Phelps that little two-fisted, large-lunged nephew of mine is about waking, and it wants an hour of the time which his mother appointed for her return. Whew! I actually sweat, thinking about it. What can I do with it? How can I treat it to sugar what d'ye-call-ems, or hold it, or trot it, or do anything with it ?"
At this juncture a faint wail from the baby receptacle brought bachelor to his knees: With an energy and alacrity that would not illy become a husband and a baby-tender, he commenced rocking the cradle; sending the indignant baby into a perfect tremor of kicks and squalls. Backwards and forwards from one side of the pillow to the other, the round, red face rolled: the infant's fists were clenched with a force that purpled them, while from the white, plump throat came a cry that set the bachelor wild with fear.
Again Joe looked at the clock. "What in the deuce can I do?" he exclaimed, viewing wofully the little inflamed face before him.
He sat down on a big chair before the baby, spread a double cradle quilt over his knees, and with a look of terror upon his face, proceeded to take the baby from its resting place. He drew the young hopeful into his lap, just as a very neat old lady would pick up a pocket handkerchief, with his thumbs and fingers. A fresh yell from the rosy mouth of the baby was the only expression of thanks as he commenced the never-out-of-fashion baby trot.
"It must be that something is pricking him !" "Shoe, Shoe," said Joe, commencing a search for the aggravating pin that was driving the baby into such a rage, but no pin could be found, and he made an attempt to turn the baby over, but oh ! the clumsiness of his fingers--the little eel-like form fell out from his lap to the floor, sending forth a cry that was "louder, clearer, deadlier than before.
"Lord save me. I've broke its neck!" was the exclamation as he picked the baby up. and in the agony of despair tried to quiet him: A thought struck Joe: he saw basque hanging against the wall in an adjoining bed-room, and with a smile of delight upon his countenance, he went for it: Sure enough; there it was, stuffing, bodice and --a real monument of feminine ingenuity: He was wild with joy. He pinned it over his coat and fastened the sleeves behind him. He took the baby and laid its head against the false breastwork.
"Shades of Southern plantations and cotton factories," exclaimed Joe, as baby rooted his nose in about a mile, and cuddled for a snooze;
Then the bachelor commenced singing--
"Women are all a fleeting show
For man's illusion given.
A tap upon the door stopped Joe in the midst of his suggestive song, and before he had time to disarray himself. the door was opened, and a roguish, laughing pair of eyes peered in upon him.
"Your sister is not at home, is she?" chirruped the visitor.
"No, ma'am," stammered Joe. growing very red in the face; "and I have turned nurse."
Miss Hays laughed, offered to relieve him of his charge; which he willingly consented to, sitting near by the while, intently watching her: She managed the baby to a charm; without the basque, and Joe was captivated:
Joseph Phelps married Fanny Hays.