How Shall I Bring Up My Child?

Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Issue 193, 1 September 1937, Page 14

How Shall I Bring Up My Child?

The Prohlem of Unpunctuality \

TT can hardly be claimed that this is a punctual generation. Most of us suffer from unpunctual friends and relatives, who waste valuable time by failing to keep appointments, and* do not even realise that they are guilty of any particular misdemeanour in doing so. Unpunctuality is an unlovable fault, apt to arouse a sense of injury out of proportion to the inconvenience it causes. It irritates and annoys, develops resentment, impatience, dislike and all kinds of reactions we would rather not experience. How are we to discourage it in our children? Punishment is something we are trying to cut out, as far as possible, fromour systems of upbringing and education. But we can proceed on the opposite line and substitute a method of rewards, and absence of rewards, the latter being a negative treatment wbich, perhaps, amounts to punishment of the painless kind. Many children are incorrigible in the way they habitually set out late for school, making the joumey one long rush} and even so only arriving by "the skin . of their teetli," a bad way to commence the day's work. Make punctual departure each day a condition for an extra quarter of an hour's respite at bed-time, or institute some other form of simple reward for good conduct, and you will have found a wonderful incentive to punctuality. It is hard to deprive a child of any pleasure to which he has looked forward. But if he does not, after repeated wamings, take the trouble to be on time when a jaunt is afoot, to set off without liim on some occasion is but to "make the punishment flt the crime." After all, it is subtle impertinence to make the convenience of elders wait upon his pleasure, and the child should learn by experience that such conduct brings its own retribution. Since time and tide wait for no xnan, the development of a time sense is an important factor in the success of any man or woman. Loss of school marks, of school privileges, of home- indulgences and treats, will go far towards eliminating slackness in a natural, not too severe nianner. ' Gentle Art of Miiiiicry. Many a cliild is born a natural mimic. Before life begins to distract his attention from too many angles, he is aible to concentrate on and make shrewd observations of things around liim, and the observations express themselves in a rather mischievous desire to "act the part." It amuses a small person to strut, to hold f orth, to pose, and to dress up as nearly as posSible like the grown-ups. And he does his tricks freely, either to the amusement or the annoyance Qf his elders. The age of mimicry usually passes with the development of school and other interests, so there is no need for parents to view the manifestations very seriously. As a rule, the child does not mean to be impertinent or to annoy his elders, and it is unfair to credit him with either htention. Grown-up tactics seem queer t> him and the temptation to ape them s irresistible. WatcH puppies and kittens a their comic endeavours to mimic the tays of their mothers. Young creatures sarn by copying ! H you show annoyance with a child

mimic, you give him a subtle weapon which he will not hesitate to use. On the other hand an attitude of indifference is disarming, and is the surest way to discourage the liabit when it threatens to get out of hand.N It is unwise deliberately to encourage mimicry by too much laughter and applause. In later years, it may grow into a type of cruelty which will be resented by those at whom it is levelled. Very little practice makes most of us into passably good mimics, but as we grow older we see the dangera of indulging in the art. It is difficult to keep within amiable bounds, and easily develops into something nearly approaching spite. Henoe the necessity of watching carefully its culture in the ntirsery. . A Polish Mountain Home. On the Polish slopes of the Carpathians live the mountain people, the Huculs. The long, carved slopes of the wooden house roofs make brown triangles against the snow, and at dusk the warm lights from the lamps give glimpses of interiors glowing with colour, made lovely by the work of the owners' hands. Each Hucul house has its great wooden doorway, elaborately ornamented by intricate patterns made of wooden nails driven in and left to protrude slightly, to make the diamonds and whirli-gigs visible. The most popular pattern is that of a round sun with rays spreading from its heart. Inside, the furniture shows, in its grotesque, clumsy curves, the influence of haroque so dearly beloved by Central Europe that it lingers on still in such forgotten comers. A rack full of wooden spoons and cooking implements hangs above the white clay stove. Right along one side of the room, above the level of the head, stretches a shelf on which stand the holy pictures which each Hucul family treasures. Handed down from father to son, and now no longer made, they are at least fifty years old, many older, and, painted upon glass, show fantastic portraits of the Holy Family and the Saints, often clad in Polish costume. One ettd of the room is almost entirely taken up hy the great weaving loom— a very important article of fUrniture in such scattered, lonely districts, where each household has to make its own wearing apparel. Here, during the long winter nights, are woven the black skirt lengths, with threads of gold and Indian red, which are never sewn up, but merely wrapped round and kept in place by the snake-like windings of long, d'elicately embroidered belts. Here, too, blouses and shirts are spun and woven from home-grown flax, the necks and sleeves lavishly embroidered in red and black cross-stitch. But it is in the embroidering of supple sheep-skins that the Hucul woman chicfly excels. The skins make long breeches for her man, and short coats for them both. The coats are worn with the fleece inwards, and the outer skin is punched and sewn into magnificent, peacock-like displays of colour. Even the men's breeches have great patches of embroidery over the pockets. And when a Hucul family descends upon one of the small towns at the foot of the mountains, it makes a blaze of colour against the background of the snow. \ ■N