IN the autumn of 1876 a friend told me she had been
shocked by the fearful stories she had heard of the ill-usage of young
children in Edinburgh, some of which she related.
The result was that I opened a Day Nursery early in
1877, where mothers who worked out during the day could bring their babies
and little children below seven years of age, and by paying a very small
sum, leave them to be well taken care of till night.
A. few came at first, but by degrees
the Nursery increased, and the children grew and
throve. I could not pay for
much help, and had to be practically head nurse myself. For this end I
spent the greater part of my days there, only going
home to sleep. The work was hard, but most interesting from a missionary
point of view, as in living the life and
sharing the burden of the very poor,
it gave one the opportunity of speaking words for Jesus which
at a greater distance are either more
apt to remain unsaid,
or are less likely to be listened to. As you may
suppose, the demands of so many hungry and
often fretful little children were incessant. The daily
attendances, when reckoned up at the year’s end, numbered by the
thousand. How well I remember often sitting on a "creepie
" (Anglicé, low
stool) with seven infants round
me on the floor, waiting for me to feed them
turn about! All our arrangements were of an equally
primitive description, which I discovered commended themselves
greatly to the hard-working mothers
who took advantage of my invitation.
It will be seen we made no attempt to
pose as a highly drilled institution!
The offer I made in return for 2d. a day
was a warm house, three meals a day and a piece for
those who had teeth to eat with. For the bottle
babies I provided the best milk I could get, and an unlimited supply of
crusts and drinks of milk for the teething children. Some friends used to
shake their heads gently and
murmur, "Irregularity." But the proof of the pudding
was literally in the eating, and the starving mites
grew fat and even rosy. The great difficulty was in
the nursing required. Babies will not do unless they are kept cheerful,
and I strongly objected to their being left lying in bed for the sake of
convenience. But we did our best; and I employed a
certain number of motherless girls, who, with good looking after,
made very efficient nurses. We had a
good many cradles and swing cots, and I had a wonderful chair, in which I
could nurse five little ones at a time. Added to these advantages, we had
a large and perfectly safe playground, with good-sized trees in it, and a
steep bank to run up and down, which was an endless delight to our
children. It was carefully fenced from the street at one side, from our
neighbours’ gardens on the other and top of the bank, also from the mill
dam at the bottom, which was a greater source of anxiety, as this was
believed to be more dangerous than the Water of Leith running just below.
Many a decent mother has thanked me for this "more than anything. Just to
keep the bairns off the street."
I think I loved the old Nursery better than any of the
Homes, for I spent so many of the early days of the work there, and learnt
so many hard lessons concerning the children of the poor.
This is a cheerful picture, but of course there were
very black shadows too, in having to see in so many cases the children
suffer for the mother’s fault, even to the extent of poor innocent little
babies being poisoned by whisky!
I often think what a wonderful result has, by the
blessing of God, grown out of the seed planted at the Stockbridge Day
Nursery. It is now a big family tree, whose branches have spread beyond
the sea, where active and capable young men and maidens are carving out
their own fortunes, and making homes for themselves in the New World,
followed in their turn by bright, bonny boys and girls, who were brought
as babies in arms, or very little children, just able to toddle in and out
after one, like a flock of ducks, whose greatest pleasure was "a dirt
pie," and greatest grief to be inadvertently left behind when the rest of
the family had adjourned to have dinner in the kitchen. Now they are
earning their own living; and it is but fair to them to say I have had no
reason to be ashamed of them.
One of my greatest pleasures in looking back to the old
nursery days is the recollection of the pleasant and affectionate
intercourse with Miss Auld, who was so true and kind a friend to me and
our children all through those years of (it must be confessed!) the
anxiety and drudgery of Day Nursery work. How she came in all weathers to
look after us and see we had all we needed in the way of housekeeping; how
she cheered us up by taking the best view of everything, coaxed the bairns
with sweeties—I always said it
made me jealous, but I did not think
it—how she controlled rebellious and provoking girls, kept up the
spirits of the nurse, conducted mothers’ meetings once a week, and scolded
me roundly for my imprudence in various directions and not taking care of
my health! I wish I had her here now, that is all I can say. I had many
other kind helpers in the lady visitors too, but as the object of their
being there was to give me time for other things, I saw less of them,
though I was most grateful to them all the same. |