They are just asleep after worrying all day . '' If he proposed a little amusement at home , `` No , it would disturb the babies . '' If he hinted at a lecture or a concert , he was answered with a reproachful look , and a decided -- `` Leave my children for pleasure , never ! '' His sleep was broken by infant wails and visions of a phantom figure pacing noiselessly to and fro in the watches of the night . His meals were interrupted by the frequent flight of the presiding genius , who deserted him , half-helped , if a muffled chirp sounded from the nest above . And when he read his paper of an evening , Demi 's colic got into the shipping list and Daisy 's fall affected the price of stocks , for Mrs. Brooke was only interested in domestic news . The poor man was very uncomfortable , for the children had bereft him of his wife , home was merely a nursery and the perpetual ` hushing ' made him feel like a brutal intruder whenever he entered the sacred precincts of Babyland . He bore it very patiently for six months , and when no signs of amendment appeared , he did what other paternal exiles do -- tried to get a little comfort elsewhere . Scott had married and gone to housekeeping not far off , and John fell into the way of running over for an hour or two of an evening , when his own parlor was empty , and his own wife singing lullabies that seemed to have no end . Mrs. Scott was a lively , pretty girl , with nothing to do but be agreeable , and she performed her mission most successfully . The parlor was always bright and attractive , the chessboard ready , the piano in tune , plenty of gay gossip , and a nice little supper set forth in tempting style . John would have preferred his own fireside if it had not been so lonely , but as it was he gratefully took the next best thing and enjoyed his neighbor 's society . Meg rather approved of the new arrangement at first , and found it a relief to know that John was having a good time instead of dozing in the parlor , or tramping about the house and waking the children . But by-and-by , when the teething worry was over and the idols went to sleep at proper hours , leaving Mamma time to rest , she began to miss John , and find her workbasket dull company , when he was not sitting opposite in his old dressing gown , comfortably scorching his slippers on the fender . She would not ask him to stay at home , but felt injured because he did not know that she wanted him without being told , entirely forgetting the many evenings he had waited for her in vain . She was nervous and worn out with watching and worry , and in that unreasonable frame of mind which the best of mothers occasionally experience when domestic cares oppress them . Want of exercise robs them of cheerfulness , and too much devotion to that idol of American women , the teapot , makes them feel as if they were all nerve and no muscle . `` Yes , '' she would say , looking in the glass , `` I 'm getting old and ugly . John does n't find me interesting any longer , so he leaves his faded wife and goes to see his pretty neighbor , who has no incumbrances . Well , the babies love me , they do n't care if I am thin and pale and have n't time to crimp my hair , they are my comfort , and some day John will see what I 've gladly sacrificed for them , wo n't he , my precious ? ''
To which pathetic appeal Daisy would answer with a coo , or XXXXX with a crow , and Meg would put by her lamentations for a maternal revel , which soothed her solitude for the time being .
Babyland Demi chirp day first fro hour hours teapot workbasket