An Editor Who Loves Babies

1877

We love babies, and also anybody else who loves babies. No man has music in hiss soul who doesn't love babies. Babies were made to be loved, especially girl babies — when they grow up.

A man isn't worth "shucks" who doesn't love babies, and the same rule applies to a woman. A baby is a spring day in winter, a hot-house in summer, a ray of sunshine in a dark day; and if it is a healthy, good-natured baby, and if it's yours, it's a bushel of sunshine, no matter how cold the weather.

A man cannot be a hopeless case as long as he loves babies — one at a time. We love babies all over, no matter how dirty they are. Babies were born to be dirty. Our love for babies is only bounded by the number of babies in the world.

We also have sorrowful feelings for mothers who have no babies. Women always look down-hearted who have no babies; and men who have none always grumble, and drink, and stay out nights, trying to get music into their souls; but they can't come by it. Babies are babies, and nothing can take their place. — Atchison Patriot.


Oops

"No," said the smart boy-baby, when the pretty young woman wanted to kiss him. "But why not?" asked she. "O, I am too little to kiss you; papa will kiss you, papa kisses all the big girls." He was permitted to play with his toys.


Somebody, Meet Nobody

Nobody likes to be nobody; but everybody is pleased to think himself somebody. And everybody is somebody; but when anybody thinks himself somebody, he generally thinks everybody else is nobody.