Monday, May 20, 2013

WHAT IS A BABY?


A two-guinea prize for "The best definition of a baby" has been awarded by London Tid-Bits to Miss Nellie
Braidwood of Girvan, England, who sent in this answer:
     "A tiny feather from the wing of love dropped into the sacred lap of motherhood."
     The following is a selection from some of the best definitions submitted:
     The bachelor's horror, the mother's treasure, and the despotic tyrant of the most republican household.
     A human flower untouched by the finger of care.
     The morning caller, noonday crawler, midnight brawler.
     The magic spell by which the gods transform a house into a home.
A stranger with unspeakable cheek that enters a house without a stitch to his back and is received with open arms by everyone.
A bursting bud on the tree of life.
The only precious possession that never excites envy.
 The latest edition of humanity of which every couple think they possess the finest copy.
     A native of all countries who speaks the language of none.
     The unconscious mediator between father and mother and the focus of their hearts.
About twenty-two inches of coo and wriggle, writhe and scream, filled with suction and testing apparatus for milk, and automatic alarm to regulate                 supply.
     A quaint little craft called Innocence, laden with simplicity and love.
     A curious bud of uncertain blossom.
     A thing we are expected to kiss, and look as if we enjoyed it.
     The smartest little craft afloat in home's delightful bay.
A mite of humanity that will cry no harder if a pin is stuck into him than he will if the cat won't let him pull her tail.
     A little stranger, with a free pass to the heart's best affections.
     The most extensive employer of female labor.
     The pupil from which the leaves of life's book are made.
     A padlock on the chain of love.
     A soft bundle of love and trouble which we –cannot do without.
                 It's a sweet and tiny treasure,
                    A torment and Ii tease.
                 It's an autocrat, an anarchist,
                    Two awful things to please.
                 It's a rest and peace disturber,
                    With little laughing ways
                 It's a wailing human night alarm,
                     And terror of your days.
     A necessity-in order to keep up the supply of readers in the future.
     The sweetest thing God ever made and forgot to give wings to.
    A pleasure to two, a nuisance to every other body and a necessity of the world.
    An inhabitant of Lapland.
    That which makes home happier, love stronger, patience greater, hands busier, nights longer, days shorter, purses lighter, clothes shabbier, the past  
    forgotten, the future brighter.

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