Chapter XVIII: Part II: Childhood (1)

_Household treasures! household treasures!
Are they jewels rich and rare;
Or gems of rarest workmanship;
Or gold and silver ware?
Ask the mother as she gazes
On her little ones at play:
Household treasures! household treasures!
Happy children—ye are they._
J. E. CARPENTER.

ABLUTION.

116. _At twelve months old, do you still recommend a child to be_ PUT IN HIS TUB _to be washed?_

Certainly I do, as I have previously recommended at page 16, in order that his skin may be well and thoroughly cleansed. If it be summer time, the water should be used cold; if it be winter, a dash of warm must be added, so that it may be of the temperature of new milk; but do not, on any account, use _very warm_ water. The head must be washed (but not dried) before he be placed in his tub; then, putting him in the tub (containing the necessary quantity of water, and washing him as previously recommended),[184] a large sponge should be filled with the water and squeezed over the head, so that the water may stream over the whole surface of the body. A jugful of cold water should, just before taking him out of his bath, be poured over and down his loins; all this ought rapidly to be done, and he must be quickly dried with soft towels, and then expeditiously dressed. For the washing of your child I would recommend you to use Castile soap in preference to any other: it is more pure, and less irritating, and hence does not injure the texture of the skin. Take care that the soap does not get into his eyes, or it might produce irritation and smarting.

117. _Some mothers object to a child’s_ STANDING _in the water_.

If the head be wetted before he be placed in the tub, and if he be washed as above directed, there can be no valid objection to it. He must not be allowed to remain in the tub more than five minutes.

118. _Does not washing the child’s head, every morning, make him more liable to catch cold, and does it not tend to weaken his sight?_

It does neither the one nor the other; on the contrary, it prevents cold, and strengthens the sight; it cleanses the scalp, prevents scurf, and, by that means, causes a more beautiful head of hair. The head, after each washing, ought to be well brushed with a soft brush, but should not be combed. The brushing causes a healthy circulation of the scalp.

119. _If the head, notwithstanding the washing, be scurfy, what should be done?_

After the head has been well dried, let a little cocoanut oil be well rubbed, for five minutes each time, into the roots of the hair, and, afterward, let the head be well brushed, but not combed. The fine-tooth comb will cause a greater accumulation of scurf, and will scratch and injure the scalp.

120. _Do you recommend a child to be washed_ IN HIS TUB _every night and morning_?

No; once a day is quite sufficient; in the morning in preference to the evening; unless he be poorly, then, evening instead of morning; as, immediately after he has been washed and dried, he can be put to bed.

121. _Ought a child to be placed in his tub while he is in a state of perspiration?_

Not while he is perspiring _violently_, or the perspiration might be checked suddenly, and ill consequences would ensue; _nor ought he to be put in his tub when he is cold_, or his blood would be chilled, and would be sent from the skin to some internal vital part, and thus would be likely to light up inflammation—probably of the lungs. His skin, when he is placed in his bath, ought to be moderately and comfortably warm; neither too hot nor too cold.

122. _When the child is a year old, do you recommend cold or warm water to be used?_

If it be winter, a little warm water ought to be added, so as to raise the temperature to that of new milk. As the summer advances, less and less warm water is required, so that, at length, none is needed.

123. _If a child be delicate, do you recommend anything to be added to the water which may tend to brace and strengthen him?_

Either a handful of table salt or half a handful of bay salt should be previously dissolved in a quart jug—of _cold_ water; then, just before taking the child out of his morning bath, let the above be poured over and down the back and loins of the child—holding the jug, while pouring its contents on the back, twelve inches from the child, in order that it might act as a kind of douche bath.

124. _Do you recommend the child, after he has been dried with the towel, to be rubbed with the hand?_

I do; as friction encourages the cutaneous circulation, and causes the skin to perform its functions properly, thus preventing the perspiration (which is one of the impurities of the body) from being sent inwardly either to the lungs or to other parts. The back, the chest, the bowels, and the limbs are the parts that ought to be well rubbed.

CLOTHING.

125. _Have you any remarks to make on the clothing of a child?_

Children—boys and girls—especially if they be delicate, ought always to wear high dresses up to their necks. The exposure of the upper part of the chest (if the child be weakly) is dangerous. It is in the _upper_ part of the lungs, in the region of the collar bones, that consumption first shows itself. The clothing of a child, more especially about the chest, should be large and full in every part, and be free from tight strings, so that the circulation of the blood may not be impeded, and that there may be plenty of room for the full development of the rapidly growing body.

His frock or tunic ought to be of woolen material—warm, light, and porous, in order that the perspiration may rapidly evaporate. The practice of some mothers in allowing their children to wear tight bands round their waists, and tight clothes, is truly reprehensible.

_Tight_ bands or _tight_ belts around the waist of a child are very injurious to health; they crib in the chest, and thus interfere with the rising and the falling of the ribs—so essential to breathing. _Tight_ hats ought never to be worn; by interfering with the circulation they cause headaches. Nature delights in freedom, and resents interference!

126. _What parts of the body in particular ought to be kept warm?_

The chest, the bowels, and the feet should be kept comfortably warm. We must guard against an opposite extreme, and not keep them too hot. The head alone should be kept cool, on which account I do not approve either of night or of day caps.

127. _What are the best kinds of hat for a child?_

The best covering for the head, when he is out and about, is a loose-fitting straw hat, which will allow the perspiration to escape. It should have a broad brim, to screen the eyes. A sunshade, that is to say, a sea-side hat—a hat made of cotton, with a wide brim to keep off the sun—is also an excellent hat for a child; it is very light, and allows a free escape of the perspiration. It can be bought, ready made, at a baby-linen warehouse.

A knitted or crocheted woolen hat, with woolen rosettes to keep the ears warm, and which may be procured at any baby-linen warehouse, makes a nice and comfortable winter’s hat for a child. It is also a good hat for him to wear while performing a long journey. The color chosen is generally scarlet and white, which, in cold weather, gives it a warm and comfortable appearance.

It is an abominable practice to cover a child’s head either with beaver or with felt, or with any thick, impervious material. It is a well-ascertained fact, that both beaver and silk hats cause men to suffer from headache, and to lose their hair—the reason being that the perspiration cannot possibly escape through them. Now, if the perspiration cannot escape, dangerous, or at all events injurious, consequences must ensue, as it is well known that the skin is a breathing apparatus, and that it will not with impunity bear interference.

Neither a child nor any one else should be permitted to be in the glare of the sun without his hat. If he be allowed, he is likely to have a sun-stroke, which might either at once kill him, or might make him an idiot for the remainder of his life, which latter would be the worse alternative of the two.

128. _Have you any remarks to make on keeping a child’s hands and legs warm when, in the winter time, he is carried out?_

When a child either walks or is carried out in wintry weather, be sure and see that both his hands and legs are well protected from the cold. There is nothing for this purpose like woolen gloves, and woolen stockings coming up over the knees.

129. _Do you approve of a child wearing a flannel night-gown?_

He frequently throws the clothes off him, and has occasion to be taken up in the night, and if he has not a flannel gown on is likely to catch cold; on which account I recommend it to be worn. The usual calico night-gown should be worn _under_ it.

130. _Do you advise a child to be_ LIGHTLY _clad, in order that he may be hardened thereby?_

I should fear that such a plan, instead of hardening, would be likely to produce a contrary effect. It is an ascertained fact that more children of the poor, who are thus lightly clad, die, than of those who are properly defended from the cold. Again, what holds good with a young plant is equally applicable to a young child; and we all know that it is ridiculous to think of unnecessarily exposing a tender plant to harden it. If it were thus exposed, it would wither and die!

131. _If a child be delicate, if he has a cold body or a languid circulation, or if he be predisposed to inflammation of the lungs, do you approve of his wearing flannel instead of linen shirts?_

I do; as flannel tends to keep the body at an equal temperature, thus obviating the effects of the sudden changes of the weather, and promotes, by gentle friction, the cutaneous circulation, thus warming the cold body, and giving an impetus to the languid circulation, and preventing an undue quantity of blood from being sent to the lungs, either to light up or to feed inflammation. _Fine_ flannel, of course, ought to be worn, which should be changed as frequently as the usual shirts.

If a child has had an attack either of bronchitis or of inflammation of the lungs, or if he has just recovered from scarlet fever, by all means, if he has not previously worn flannel, _instantly_ let him begin to do so, and let him, next to the skin, wear a flannel waistcoat. _This is important advice, and ought not to be disregarded._

_Scarlet_ flannel is now much used instead of _white_ flannel; and as scarlet flannel has a more comfortable appearance, and does not shrink so much in washing, it may for the white be substituted.

132. _Have you any remarks to make on the shoes and stockings of a child? and on the right way of cutting the toe-nails?_

He ought, during the winter, to wear lambs’ wool stockings that will reach _above_ the knees, and _thick_ calico drawers that will reach a few inches _below_ the knees; as it is of the utmost importance to keep the lower extremities comfortably warm. It is really painful to see how many mothers expose the bare legs of their little ones to the frosty air, even in the depths of winter. “Tender little children are exposed to the bitterest weather, with their legs bared in a manner that would inevitably injure the health of strong adults.”[185]

Garters ought not to be worn, as they impede the circulation, waste the muscles, and interfere with walking. The stocking may be secured in its place by means of a loop and tape, which should be fastened to a part of the dress.

Let me urge upon you the importance of not allowing your child to wear _tight_ shoes; they cripple the feet, causing the joints of the toes, which ought to have free play, and which should assist in walking, to be, in a manner, useless; they produce corns and bunions, and interfere with the proper circulation of the foot. A shoe ought to be made according to the shape of the foot—rights and lefts are therefore desirable. The toe-part of the shoe must be made broad, so as to allow plenty of room for the toes to expand, and that one toe cannot overlap another. Be sure, then, that there be no pinching and no pressure. In the article of shoes you ought to be particular and liberal; pay attention to having nicely fitting ones, and let them be made of soft leather, and throw them on one side the moment they are too small. It is poor economy, indeed, because a pair of shoes be not worn out, to run the risk of incurring the above evil consequences.

_Shoes are far preferable to boots_; boots weaken instead of strengthen the ankle. The ankle and instep require free play, and ought not to be hampered by boots. Moreover, boots, by undue pressure, decidedly waste away the ligaments of the ankle. Boots act on the ankles in a similar way that stays do on the waist—they do mischief by pressure. Boots waste away the ligaments of the ankle; stays waste away the muscles of the back and chest: and thus, in both cases, do irreparable mischief.

A shoe for a child ought to be made with a narrow strap over the instep, and with button and button-hole: if it be not made in this way, the shoe will not keep on the foot.

It is a grievous state of things that in this nineteenth century there are very few shoemakers in England who know how to make a shoe! The shoe is made not to fit the real foot, but a fashionable imaginary one!

Let me strongly urge you to be particular that the sock or stocking fits nicely—that it is neither too small nor too large; if it be too small, it binds up the toes unmercifully, and makes one toe to ride over the other, and thus renders the toes perfectly useless in walking; if it be too large, it is necessary to lap a portion of the sock or stocking either under or over the toes, which thus presses unduly upon them, and gives pain and annoyance. It should be borne in mind that if the toes have full play, they, as it were, grasp the ground, and greatly assist in locomotion—which, of course, if they are cramped up, they cannot possibly do. Be careful too, that the toe-part of the sock or stocking be not pointed; let it be made square, in order to give room to the toes. “At this helpless period of life the delicately feeble, outspreading toes, are wedged into a narrow-toed stocking, often so short as to double in the toes, diminishing the length of the rapidly-growing foot! It is next, perhaps, tightly laced into a boot of less interior dimensions than itself; when the poor little creature is left to sprawl about with a limping, stumping gait, thus learning to walk as it best can, under circumstances the most cruel and torturing imaginable.”[186]

It is impossible for either a stocking or a shoe to fit nicely, unless the toe-nails be kept in proper order. Now, in cutting the toe-nails there is, as in everything else, a right and a wrong way. The _right_ way of cutting a toe-nail is to cut it straight—in a straight line. The _wrong_ way is to cut the corners of the nail—to round the nail, as it is called. This cutting the corners of the nails often makes work for the surgeon, as I myself can testify; it frequently produces “growing-in” of the nail, which sometimes necessitates the removal of either the nail or of a portion of it.

133. _At what time of the year should a child leave off his winter clothing?_

A mother ought not to leave off her children’s winter clothing until the spring be far advanced: it is far better to be on the safe side, and to allow the winter clothes to be worn until the end of May. The old adage is very good, and should be borne in mind:

“Button to chin
Till May be in;
Ne’er cast a clout
Till May be out.”

134. _Have you any general remarks to make on the present fashion of dressing children?_

The present fashion is absurd. Children are frequently dressed like mountebanks, with feathers and furbelows and finery: the boys go bare-legged; the little girls are dressed like women, with their stuck-out petticoats, crinolines, and low dresses! Their poor little waists are drawn in tight, so that they can scarcely breathe; their dresses are very low and short, the consequence is, that a great part of the chest is exposed to our variable climate; their legs are bare down to their thin socks, or, if they be clothed, they are only covered with gossamer drawers; while their feet are incased in tight shoes of paper thickness! Dress! dress! dress! is made with them at a tender age, and, when first impressions are the strongest, a most important consideration. They are thus rendered vain and frivolous, and are taught to consider dress “as the one thing needful.” And if they live to be women—which the present fashion is likely frequently to prevent—what are they? Silly, simpering, delicate, lackadaisical nonentities,—dress being their amusement, their occupation, their conversation, their everything, their thoughts by day and their dreams by night! Let children be dressed as children, not as men and women. Let them be taught that dress is quite a secondary consideration. Let health, and not fashion, be the first, and we shall have, with God’s blessing, blooming children, who will, in time, be the pride and strength of dear old England! Oh that the time may come, and may not be far distant, “That our sons may grow up as the young plants, and that our daughters may be as the polished corners of the temple.”[187]

DIET.

135. _At_ TWELVE _months old, have you any objection to a child having any other food besides that you mentioned in answer to the 34th question_?

There is no objection to his _occasionally_ having for dinner either a mealy, _mashed_ potato and gravy, or a few crumbs of bread and gravy. Rice pudding or batter pudding may, for a change, be given; but remember, the food recommended in a former Conversation is what, until he be eighteen months old, must be principally taken. During the early months of infancy—say, for the first six or seven—if artificial food be given at all, it should be administered by means of a feeding-bottle. After that time, either a spoon or a nursing-boat will be preferable. As he becomes older, the food ought to be made more solid.

136. _At_ EIGHTEEN _months old, have you any objection to a child having meat_?

He ought not to have meat until he has several teeth to chew it with. If he has most of his teeth—which he very likely, at this age, will have—there is no objection to his taking a small slice either of mutton or occasionally of roast beef, which should be well cut into very small pieces, and mixed with a mealy, _mashed_ potato, and a few crumbs of bread and gravy, either _every_ day, if he be delicate, or every _other_ day, if he be a gross or a fast-feeding child. It may be well, in the generality of cases, for the first few months to give him meat _every other_ day, and either potato and gravy, or rice or suet-pudding or batter pudding on the alternate days; indeed, I think so highly of rice, of suet, and of batter puddings, and of other farinaceous puddings, that I should advise you to let him have either the one or the other, even on those days that he has meat—giving it him _after_ his meat. But remember, if he have meat _and_ pudding, the meat ought to be given sparingly. If he be gorged with food, it makes him irritable, cross, and stupid; at one time, clogging up the bowels and producing constipation; at another, disordering the liver, and causing either clay-colored stools, denoting a _deficiency_ of bile, or dark and offensive motions, telling of _vitiated_ bile; while, in a third case, cramming him with food might bring on convulsions.

137. _As you are so partial to puddings for a child, which do you consider the best for him?_

He ought, every day, to have a pudding for his dinner—either rice, arrow-root, sago, tapioca, suet-pudding, batter pudding, or Yorkshire-pudding, mixed with crumbs of bread and gravy—free from grease. A well-boiled suet-pudding, with plenty of suet in it, is one of the best puddings he can have; it is, in point of fact, meat and farinaceous food combined, and is equal to and will oftentimes prevent the giving of cod-liver oil. Before cod-liver oil came into vogue, suet boiled in milk was _the_ remedy for a delicate child; he may, occasionally, have fruit-pudding, provided the pastry be both plain and light.

The objection to fruit pies and puddings is, that the pastry is often too rich for the delicate stomach of a child: there is no objection, certainly not, to the fruit—cooked fruit being, for a child, most wholesome; if, therefore, fruit puddings and pies be eaten, the pastry part ought to be quite plain. There is, in “Murray’s Modern Cookery Book,” an excellent suggestion, which I will take the liberty of quoting, and of strongly urging my fair reader to carry into practice: “_To prepare fruit for children, a far more wholesome way than in pies and puddings_, is to put apples sliced, or plums, currants, gooseberries, etc. into a stone jar, and sprinkle among them as much Lisbon sugar as necessary. Set the jar on an oven or on a hearth, with a teacupful of water to prevent the fruit from burning; or put the jar into a saucepan of water, till its contents be perfectly done. Slices of bread or some rice may be put into the jar, to eat with the fruit.”

_Jam_—such as strawberry, raspberry, gooseberry—_is most wholesome for a child_, and ought occasionally to be given, in lieu of sugar, with the rice, with the batter, and with the other puddings. Marmalade, too, is very wholesome.

Puddings ought to be given _after_ and not _before_ his meat and vegetables; if you give him pudding before his meat, he might refuse to eat meat altogether.

By adopting the plan of giving puddings _every_ day, your child will require _less_ animal food: _much_ meat is injurious to a young child.

But do not run into an opposite extreme: a _little_ meat ought, every day, to be given, _provided he has cut the whole of his first set of teeth_; until then, meat every _other_ day will be often enough.

138. _As soon as a child has cut the whole of his first set of teeth, what ought to be his diet? What should be his breakfast?_

He can, then, have nothing better, where it agrees, than scalding-hot new milk poured on sliced bread, with a slice or two of bread and butter to eat with it. Butter, in moderation, is nourishing, fattening, and wholesome. Moreover, butter tends to keep the bowels regular. These facts should be borne in mind, as some mothers foolishly keep their children from butter, declaring it to be too rich for their children’s stomachs! New milk should be used in preference either to cream or to skimmed milk. Cream, as a rule, is too rich for the delicate stomach of a child, and skim-milk is too poor when robbed of the butter which the cream contains. But give cream and, water, where new milk (as is _occasionally_ the case) does not agree; but never give skim-milk. _Skim_-milk (among other evils) produces costiveness, and necessitates the frequent administration of aperients. Cream, on the other hand, regulates and tends to open the bowels.

Although, as a rule, I am not so partial to cream as I am to good genuine fresh milk, yet I have found, in cases of great debility, more especially where a child is much exhausted by some inflammatory disease, such as inflammation of the lungs, the following food most serviceable: Beat up, by means of a fork, the yolk of an egg, then mix, little by little, half a teacupful of very weak _black_ tea, sweeten with one lump of sugar, and add a tablespoonful of cream. Let the foregoing, by teaspoonfuls at a time, be frequently given.

The above food is only to be administered until the exhaustion be removed, and is not to supersede the milk diet, which must, at stated periods, be given, as I have recommended in answers to previous and subsequent questions.

When a child has costive bowels, there is nothing better for his breakfast than well-made and well-boiled oatmeal stir-about, which ought to be eaten with milk fresh from the cow. Scotch children scarcely take anything else, and a finer race is not in existence; and, as for physic, many of them do not even know either the taste or the smell of it!

139. _Have you any remarks to make on cow’s milk, as an article of food?_

Cow’s milk is a valuable, indeed, an indispensable article of diet for children; it is most nourishing, wholesome, and digestible. The finest and the healthiest children are those who, for the first four or five years of their lives, are fed _principally_ upon it. Milk ought then to be their staple food.

No young child, as a rule, can live, or, if he live, can be healthy, unless milk is the staple article of his diet. There is no substitute for milk. To prove the fattening and strengthening qualities of milk, look only at a young calf who lives on milk, and on milk alone! He is a Samson in strength, and is as fat as butter; and all young things are fat if they are in health!

Milk contains every ingredient to build up the body, which is more than can be said of any other known substance. A child may live entirely, and become both healthy and strong, on milk, and on milk alone, as it contains every constituent of the human body. A child cannot “live by bread alone,” but he might on milk alone! Milk is animal and vegetable—it is meat and bread—it is a fluid, but as soon as it reaches the stomach it becomes a solid[188]—solid food; it is the most important and valuable article of diet for a child in existence. It is a glorious food for the young, and must never, in any case, be dispensed with. “Considering that milk contains in itself most of the constituents of a perfect diet, and is capable of maintaining life in infancy without the aid of any other substance, it is marvelous that the consumption of it is practically limited to so small a class; and not only so, but that in sick-rooms, where the patient is surrounded with every luxury, arrow-root, and other compounds containing much less nutriment, should so often be preferred to it.”[189]

Do not let me be misunderstood. I do not mean to say but that the mixing of farinaceous food—such as Lemann’s Biscuit Powder, Robb’s Biscuit, Hard’s Farinaceous Food, Brown and Polson’s Corn Flour, and the like, with the milk, is an improvement—a great improvement; but still I maintain that a child might live and thrive, and that for a lengthened period, on milk—and on milk alone!

A dog will live and fatten for six weeks on milk alone! while he will starve and die in a shorter period on strong beef-tea alone!

It is a grievous sin for a milkman to adulterate milk. How many a poor infant has fallen a victim to that crime!—for crime it may truly be called.

It is folly in the extreme for a mother to bate a milkman down in the price of his milk; if she does, the milk is sure to be either of inferior quality, or adulterated, or diluted with water; and woe betide the poor unfortunate child if it be either the one or the other! The only way to insure good milk is to go to a respectable cow-keeper, and let him be made to thoroughly understand the importance of your child having _genuine_ milk, and that you are then willing to pay a fair remunerative price for it. Rest assured, that if you have to pay one penny or even twopence a quart more for _genuine_ milk, it is one of the best investments that you ever have made, or that you are ever likely to make, in this world! Cheap and inferior milk might well be called cheap and nasty; for inferior or adulterated milk is the very essence, the conglomeration, of nastiness; and, moreover, is very poisonous to a child’s stomach. One and the principal reason why so many children are rickety and scrofulous, is the horrid stuff called milk that is usually given to them. It is a crying evil, and demands a thorough investigation and reformation, and the individual interference of every parent. Limited Liability Companies are the order of the day; it would really be not a bad speculation if one was formed in every large town, in order to insure good, genuine, and undiluted milk.

_Young_ children, as a rule, are allowed to eat too much meat. It is a mistaken notion of a mother that they require so much animal food. If more milk were given, and less meat, they would be healthier, and would not be so predisposed to disease, especially to skin disease.

I should strongly recommend you, then, to be extravagant in your milk score. Each child ought, in the twenty-four hours, to take at least a quart of good, fresh, new milk. It should, of course, be given in various ways,—as bread and milk, rice puddings, milk, and different kinds of farinaceous food, stir-about, etc. etc.

140. _But suppose my child will not take milk, he having an aversion to it, what ought then to be done?_

Boil the milk, and sweeten it to suit his palate. After he has been accustomed to it for awhile, he will then, probably, like milk. Gradually reduce the sugar until at length it be dispensed with. A child will often take milk this way, whereas he will not otherwise touch it.

If a child will not drink milk, he _must_ eat meat; it is absolutely necessary that he should have either the one or the other; and, if he has cut nearly all his teeth, he ought to have both meat and milk—the former in moderation, the latter in abundance.

141. _Supposing milk should not agree with my child, what must then be done?_

Milk, either boiled or unboiled, almost always agrees with a child. If it does not, it must be looked upon as the exception, and not the rule. I would, in such a case, advise one-eighth of lime-water to be added to seven-eighths of new milk—that is to say, two tablespoonfuls of lime-water should be mixed with half a pint of new milk.

142. _Can you tell me of a way to prevent milk, in hot weather, from turning sour?_

Let the jug of milk be put into a crock containing ice—either in the dairy or in the cellar. The ice should be kept, wrapped either in flannel or in a blanket, in a cool place until it be wanted.

143. _Is it necessary to give a child luncheon?_

If he want anything to eat between breakfast and dinner, let him have a piece of _dry_ bread; and if he has eaten very heartily at dinner, and, like Oliver Twist, “asks for more!” give him, to satisfy his craving, a piece of _dry_ bread. He will never eat more of that than will do him good, and yet he will take sufficient to satisfy his hunger, which is very important.

144. _What ought now to be his dinner?_

He should now have meat, either mutton or beef, daily, which must be cut up very small, and should be mixed with mealy _mashed_ potato and gravy. He ought _always_ to be accustomed to eat salt with his dinner. Let a mother see that this advice is followed, or evil consequences will inevitably ensue. Let him be closely watched, to ascertain that he well masticates his food, and that he does not eat too quickly; for young children are apt to bolt their food.

145. _Have you any objection to pork for a change?_

I have a great objection to it for the young. It is a rich, gross, and therefore unwholesome food for the delicate stomach of a child. I have known it, in several instances, produce violent pain, sickness, purging, and convulsions. If a child be fed much upon such meat, it will be likely to produce “breakings-out” on the skin. In fine, his blood will put on the same character as the food he is fed with. Moreover, pork might be considered a _strong_ meat, and “_strong_ meat and _strong_ drink can only be taken by _strong_ men.”

146. _Do you approve of veal for a child?_

My objection to pork was, that it was rich and gross; this does not apply to veal; but the objection to it is, that it is more difficult of digestion than either mutton or beef.

147. _Do you disapprove of salted and boiled beef for a child?_

If beef be _much_ salted it is hard of digestion, and therefore ought not to be given to him; but if it has been but _slightly_ salted, then for a change there will be no objection to a little.

There is no necessity in the _winter_ time to _salt_ meat intended for boiling; then, boiled _unsalted_ meat makes a nice change for a child’s dinner. Salt, of course, _must_ with the unsalted meat be eaten.

148. _But suppose there is nothing on the table that a child may with impunity eat?_

He should then have either a grilled mutton-chop, or a lightly boiled egg; indeed, the latter, at any time, makes an excellent change.

149. _Are potatoes an unwholesome food for a child?_

New ones are; but old potatoes, well cooked and mealy, are the best vegetable he can have. They ought to be _well mashed_, as I have known lumps of potatoes cause convulsions.

150. _Do you approve of any other vegetables for a child?_

Occasionally. Either asparagus, or broccoli, or cauliflower, or turnips, or French beans, which latter should be cut up fine, may with advantage be given.

151. _Might not a mother be too particular in dieting her child?_

Certainly not. If blood can be too pure and too good she might! When we take into account that the food we eat is converted into blood; that if the food be good, the blood is good; and that if the food be improper or impure, the blood is impure likewise; and, moreover, when we know that every part of the body is built up by the blood, we cannot be considered to be too particular in making our selection of food. Besides, if indigestible or improper food be taken into the stomach, the blood will not only be made impure, but the stomach and the bowels will be disordered.

Do not let me be misunderstood: I am no advocate for a child having the same food one day as another—certainly not. Let there be variety, but let it be _wholesome_ variety. Variety in a child’s (not in an infant’s) food is necessary. If he were fed, day after day, on mutton, his stomach would at length be brought into that state that in time it would not properly digest any other meat, and a miserable existence would be the result.

152. _What ought a child to drink with his dinner?_

Toast and water, or, if he prefer it, plain spring water. Let him have as much as he likes. If you give him water to drink, there is no fear of his taking too much; Nature will tell him when he has had enough. Be careful of the quality of the water, and the source from which you procure it. Soft spring water from a moderately deep well is the best. If it come from a land spring, it is apt, indeed is almost sure to be contaminated by drains, etc., which is a frequent cause of fevers, of diphtheria, of Asiatic cholera, and of other blood poisons.

Guard against the drinking water being contaminated with lead; never, therefore, allow the water to be collected in leaden cisterns, as it sometimes is if the water be obtained from Water-works’ companies. Lead pumps, for the same reason, ought never to be used for drinking purposes. Paralysis, constipation, lead colic, dropping of the wrist, wasting of the ball of the thumb, loss of memory and broken and ruined health might result from neglect of this advice.

All honor to the man who first invented the Drinking Fountain, and all honor to the mayors and corporations of towns who see that they are kept in good, efficient working order! The drinking fountains are a great boon to poor children, as water, and plenty of it, is one of the chief necessaries of their very existence: and, unfortunately, at their own homes they are not, oftentimes, able to obtain a sufficient supply. Moreover, drinking fountains are the best advocates for temperance.

Some parents are in the habit of giving their children beer with their dinners, making them live as they live themselves! This practice is truly absurd, and fraught with great danger—not only so, but it is inducing a child to be fond of that which in after-life might be his bane and curse. No good end can be obtained by it; it will _not_ strengthen so young a child; it will, on the contrary, create fever, and will thereby weaken him; it will act injuriously upon his delicate, nervous, and vascular systems, and might be a means of producing inflammation either of the brain or of its membranes, and might thus cause water on the brain (a disease to which young children are subject), or it might induce inflammation of the lungs.

153. _What ought a child who has cut his teeth to have for his supper?_

The same that he has for breakfast. He should sup at six o’clock.

154. _Have you any general remarks to make on a child’s meals?_

I recommended a great sameness in an _infant’s_ diet; but a _child’s_ meals, his dinners especially, ought to be much varied. For instance, do not let him have, day after day, mutton; but ring the changes on mutton, beef, poultry, game, and even occasionally fish—sole or cod.

Not only let there be a change of meat, but let there be a change in the manner of cooking it: let the meat sometimes be roasted; at other times let it be boiled. I have known a mother who has prided herself as being experienced in these matters, feed her child, day after day, on mutton-chops! Such a proceeding is most injurious to him, as after awhile his unfortunate stomach will digest nothing but mutton-chops, and, in time, not even those!

With regard to vegetables, potatoes—_mashed_ potatoes—ought to be his staple vegetable; but, every now and then, cauliflower, asparagus, turnips, and French beans should be given.

With respect to puddings, vary them,—rice, one day; suet, another; batter, a third; tapioca, a fourth; or, even occasionally, he might have either apple or gooseberry or rhubarb-pudding, provided the pastry be plain and light.

It is an excellent plan, as I have before remarked, to let a child eat jam—such as strawberry, raspberry, or gooseberry—and that without stint, either with rice or with batter puddings.

_Variety of diet_, then, is _good for a child_: it will give him muscle, bone, and sinew; and, what is very important, it will tend to regulate his bowels, and it will thus prevent the necessity of giving him aperients.

But do not stuff a child—do not press him, as is the wont of some mothers, to eat more than he feels inclined. On the contrary, if you think that he is eating too much—that he is overloading his stomach—and if he should ask for more, then, instead of giving him either more meat or more pudding, give him a piece of dry bread. By doing so, you may rest assured that he will not eat more than is absolutely good for him.

155. _If a child be delicate, is there any objection to a little wine, such as cowslip or tent, to strengthen him?_

Wine ought not to be given to a child unless it be ordered by a medical man: it is even more injurious than beer. Wine, beer, and spirits principally owe their strength to the alcohol they contain; indeed, nearly _all_ wines are _fortified_ (as it is called) with brandy. Brandy contains a large quantity of alcohol, more than any other liquor, namely, 55.3 per cent. If, therefore, you give wine, it is, in point of fact, giving diluted brandy—diluted alcohol; and alcohol acts, unless it be used as a medicine, and under skillful medical advice, as a poison to a child.

156. _Suppose a child suddenly to lose his appetite: is any notice to be taken of it?_

If he cannot eat well, depend upon it there is something wrong about the system. If he be teething, let a mother look well to his gums, and satisfy herself that they do not require lancing. If they be red, hot, and swollen, send for a medical man, that he may scarify them. If his gums be not inflamed, and no tooth appears near, let her look well to the state of his bowels; let her ascertain that they be sufficiently opened, and that the stools be of a proper consistence, color, and smell. If they be neither the one nor the other, give a dose of aperient medicine, which will generally put all to rights. If the gums be cool, and the bowels be right, and his appetite continue bad, call in medical aid.

A child asking for something to eat is frequently, in a severe illness, the first favorable symptom; we may generally then prognosticate that all will soon be well again.

If a child refuse his food, neither coax nor tempt him to eat: as food without an appetite will do him more harm than it will do him good; it may produce either sickness, bowel complaint, or fever. Depend upon it, there is always a cause for a want of appetite;—perhaps his stomach has been overworked, and requires repose; or his bowels are loaded, and Nature wishes to take time to use up the old material;—there might be fever lurking in his system; Nature stops the supplies, and thus endeavors, by not giving it food to work with, to nip it in the bud;—there might be inflammation; food would then be improper, as it would only add fuel to the fire; let, therefore, the cause be either an overworked stomach, overloaded bowels, fever, or inflammation, food would be injurious. Kind Nature, if we will but listen to her voice, will tell us when to eat and when to refrain.

157. _When a child is four or five years old, have you any objection to his drinking tea?_

Some parents are in the habit of giving their children strong (and frequently green) tea. This practice is most hurtful. It acts injuriously upon their delicate, nervous system, and thus weakens their whole frame. If milk does not agree, a cup of very weak tea, that is to say, water with a dash of _black_ tea in it, with a tablespoonful of cream, may be substituted for milk; but a mother must never give tea where milk agrees.

158. _Have you any objection to a child occasionally having either cakes or sweetmeats?_

I consider them as so much slow poison. Such things both cloy and weaken the stomach, and thereby take away the appetite, and thus debilitate the frame. Moreover, “sweetmeats are colored with poisonous pigments.” A mother, surely, is not aware that when she is giving her child sugar confectionery she is, in many cases, administering a deadly poison to him? “We beg to direct the attention of our readers to the Report of the Analytical Sanitary Commission, contained in the _Lancet_ of the present week,[190] on the pigments employed in coloring articles of sugar confectionery. From this report it appears that metallic pigments, of a highly dangerous and even poisonous character, containing chromic acid, lead, copper, mercury, and arsenic, are commonly used in the coloring of such articles.”[191]

If a child be never allowed to eat cakes and sweetmeats, he will consider a piece of dry bread a luxury, and will eat it with the greatest relish.

159. _Is bakers’ or is home-made bread the most wholesome for a child?_

Bakers’ bread is certainly the lightest; and, if we could depend upon its being unadulterated, would, from its lightness, be the most wholesome; but as we cannot always depend upon bakers’ bread, home-made bread, as a rule, should be preferred. If it be at all heavy, a child must not be allowed to partake of it; a baker’s loaf ought then to be sent for, and continued to be eaten until light home-made bread can be procured. Heavy bread is most indigestible. He must not be allowed to eat bread, until it be two or three days old. If it be a week old, in cold weather, it will be the more wholesome.

160. _Do you approve either of caraway seeds or of currants in bread or in cakes—the former to disperse wind, the later to open the bowels?_

There is nothing better than plain bread: the caraway seeds generally pass through the bowels undigested, and thus might irritate, and might produce, instead of disperse wind.[192] Some mothers put currants in cakes, with a view of opening the bowels of their children; but they only open them by disordering them.

161. _My child has an antipathy to certain articles of diet: what would you advise to be done?_

A child’s antipathy to certain articles of diet should be respected: it is a sin and a shame to force him to eat what he has a great dislike to: a child, for instance, sometimes dislikes the fat of meat, underdone meat, the skin off boiled milk and off rice pudding. Why should he not have his likes and dislikes as well as “children of a larger growth?” Besides, there is an idiosyncrasy—a peculiarity of the constitution in some children—and Nature oftentimes especially points out what is good and what is bad for them individually, and we are not to fly in the face of Nature. “What is one man’s meat is another man’s poison.” If a child be forced to eat what he dislikes, it will most likely not only make him sick, but will disorder his stomach and bowels: food, if it is really to do him good, must be eaten by him with a relish, and not with disgust and aversion. Some mothers, who are strict disciplinarians, pride themselves on compelling their children to eat whatever they choose to give them! Such children are to be pitied!

162. _When ought a child to commence to dine with his parents?_

As soon as he be old enough to sit up at the table, provided the father and mother either dine or lunch in the middle of the day. “I always prefer having children about me at meal-times. I think it makes them little gentlemen and gentlewomen in a manner that nothing else will.”[193]

THE NURSERY.

163. _Have you any remarks to make on the selection, the ventilation, the warming, the temperature, and the arrangements of a nursery? and have you any further observations to offer conducive to the well-doing of my child?_

The nursery ought to be the largest and the most airy room in the house. In the town, if it be in the topmost story (provided the apartment be large and airy) so much the better, as the air will then be purer. The architect, in the building of a house, ought to be particularly directed to pay attention to the space, the loftiness, the ventilation, the light, the warming, and the conveniences of a nursery. A bath-room attached to it will be of great importance and benefit to the health of a child.

It will, also, be advantageous to have a water-closet near at hand, which should be well supplied with water, be well drained, and be well ventilated. If this be not practicable, the evacuations ought to be removed as soon as they are passed. It is a filthy and an idle habit of a nurse-maid to allow a motion to remain for any length of time in the room.

The VENTILATION of a nursery is of paramount importance. There ought to be a constant supply of fresh, pure air in the apartment. But how few nurseries have fresh, pure air? Many nurseries are nearly hermetically sealed—the windows are seldom, if ever, opened; the doors are religiously closed; and, in the summer time, the chimneys are carefully stuffed up, so that a breath of air is not allowed to enter! The consequences are, the poor unfortunate children “are poisoned by their own breaths,” and are made so delicate that they are constantly catching cold; indeed, it might be said that they are laboring under chronic catarrhs, all arising from Nature’s laws being set at defiance.

The windows ought to be large, and should be made to freely open both top and bottom. Whenever the child is out of the nursery the windows ought to be thrown wide open; indeed, when he is in it, if the weather be fine, the upper sash should be a little lowered. A child should be encouraged to change the room frequently, in order that it may be freely ventilated; for good air is as necessary to his health as wholesome food, and air cannot be good if it be not frequently changed. If you wish to have a strong and healthy child, ponder over and follow this advice.

I have to enter my protest against the use of a stove in a nursery. I consider a gas stove _without a chimney_ to be an abomination, most destructive to human life. There is nothing like the old-fashioned open fire-place, with a good-sized chimney, so that it may not only carry off the smoke, but also the impure air of the room.

Be sure to have a fire-guard around the grate, and be strict in not allowing your child either to touch or to play with fire; frightful accidents have occurred from mothers and nurses being on these points lax.

The nursery ought to have a large fire-guard, to go all round the hearth, and which should be sufficiently high to prevent a child from climbing over. Not only must the nursery have a guard, but every room where he is allowed to go should be furnished with one on the bars.

Moreover, it will be necessary to have a guard in every room where a fire is burning, to protect the ladies, who, in accordance with the present fashion, wear such preposterous crinolines, and thus to prevent the frightful deaths which are at the present time of such frequent and startling occurrence; lady-burning is now one of the institutions of our land!

A nursery is usually kept too hot; the temperature in the winter time ought _not to exceed_ 60 degrees Fahrenheit. A _good_ thermometer should be considered an indispensable requisite to a nursery. A child in a hot, close nursery is bathed in perspiration; if he leave the room to go to one of lower temperature, the pores of his skin are suddenly closed, and either a severe cold, or an inflammation of the lungs, or an attack of bronchitis, is likely to ensue. Moreover, the child is both weakened and enervated by the heat, and thus readily falls a prey to disease.

A child ought never to be permitted to sit with his back to the fire; if he be allowed, it weakens his spine, and thus his whole frame; it causes a rush of blood to the head and face, and predisposes him to catch cold.