AP Success - AP English Literature: Wit Inspirations Of The "Two-Year-Olds"

All infants appear to have an impertinent and disagreeable

fashion nowadays of saying "smart" things on most occasions

that offer, and especially on occasions when they ought not

to be saying anything at all. Judging by the average

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published specimens of smart sayings, the rising generation

of children are little better than idiots. And the parents

must surely be but little better than the children, for in

most cases they are the publishers of the sunbursts of

infantile imbecility which dazzle us from the pages of our

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periodicals. I may seem to speak with some heat, not to say

a suspicion of personal spite; and I do admit that it

nettles me to hear about so many gifted infants in these

days, and remember that I seldom said anything smart when I

was a child. I tried it once or twice, but it was not

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popular. The family were not expecting brilliant remarks

from me, and so they snubbed me sometimes and spanked me the

rest. But it makes my flesh creep and my blood run cold to

think what might have happened to me if I had dared to utter

some of the smart things of this generation's "four-year-

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olds" where my father could hear me. To have simply skinned

me alive and considered his duty at an end would have seemed

to him criminal leniency toward one so sinning. He was a

stern, unsmiling man, and hated all forms of precocity. If I

had said some of the things I have referred to, and said

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them in his hearing, he would have destroyed me. He would,

indeed. He would, provided the opportunity remained with

him. But it would not, for I would have had judgment enough

to take some strychnine first and say my smart thing

afterward. The fair record of my life has been tarnished by

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just one pun. My father overheard that, and he hunted me

over four or five townships seeking to take my life. If I

had been full-grown, of course he would have been right;

but, child as I was, I could not know how wicked a thing I

had done.    I made one of those remarks ordinarily called

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"smart things" before that, but it was not a pun. Still, it

came near causing a serious rupture between my father and

myself. My father and mother, my uncle Ephraim and his wife,

and one or two others were present, and the conversation

turned on a name for me. I was lying there trying some

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India-rubber rings of various patterns, and endeavoring to

make a selection, for I was tired of trying to cut my teeth

on people's fingers, and wanted to get hold of something

that would enable me to hurry the thing through and get

something else. Did you ever notice what a nuisance it was

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cutting your teeth on your nurse's finger, or how back-

breaking and tiresome it was trying to cut them on your big

toe? And did you never get out of patience and wish your

teeth were in Jerico long before you got them half cut? To

me it seems as if these things happened yesterday. And they

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did, to some children. But I digress. I was lying there

trying the India-rubber rings. I remember looking at the

clock and noticing that in an hour and twenty-five minutes I

would be two weeks old, and thinking how little I had done

to merit the blessings that were so unsparingly lavished

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upon me. My father said:    "Abraham is a good name. My

grandfather was named Abraham."    My mother said:

"Abraham is a good name. Very well. Let us have Abraham for

one of his names."    I said:    "Abraham suits the

subscriber."    My father frowned, my mother looked pleased;

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my aunt said:    "What a little darling it is!"    My father

said:    "Isaac is a good name, and Jacob is a good name."

My mother assented, and said:    "No names are better. Let

us add Isaac and Jacob to his names."    I said:    "All

right. Isaac and Jacob are good enough for yours truly. Pass

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me that rattle, if you please. I can't chew India-rubber

rings all day."    Not a soul made a memorandum of these

sayings of mine, for publication. I saw that, and did it

myself, else they would have been utterly lost. So far from

meeting with a generous encouragement like other children

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when developing intellectually, I was now furiously scowled

upon by my father; my mother looked grieved and anxious, and

even my aunt had about her an expression of seeming to think

that maybe I had gone too far. I took a vicious bite out of

an India-rubber ring, and covertly broke the rattle over the

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kitten's head, but said nothing. Presently my father said:

"Samuel is a very excellent name."    I saw that trouble was

coming. Nothing could prevent it. I laid down my rattle;

over the side of the cradle I dropped my uncle's silver

watch, the clothes-brush, the toy dog, my tin soldier, the

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nutmeg-grater, and other matters which I was accustomed to

examine, and meditate upon and make pleasant noises with,

and bang and batter and break when I needed wholesome

entertainment. Then I put on my little frock and my little

bonnet, and took my pygmy shoes in one hand and my licorice

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in the other, and climbed out on the floor. I said to

myself, Now, if the worse comes to worst, I am ready. Then I

said aloud, in a firm voice:    "Father, I cannot, cannot

wear the name of Samuel."    "My son!"    "Father, I mean

it. I cannot."    "Why?"    "Father, I have an invincible

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antipathy to that name."    "My son, this is unreasonable.

Many great and good men have been named Samuel."    "Sir, I

have yet to hear of the first instance."    "What! There was

Samuel the prophet. Was not he great and good?"    "Not so

very."    "My son! With His own voice the Lord called him."

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"Yes, sir, and had to call him a couple times before he

could come!"    And then I sallied forth, and that stern old

man sallied forth after me. He overtook me at noon the

following day, and when the interview was over I had

acquired the name of Samuel, and a thrashing, and other

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useful information; and by means of this compromise my

father's wrath was appeased and a misunderstanding bridged

over which might have become a permanent rupture if I had

chosen to be unreasonable. But just judging by this episode,

what would my father have done to me if I had ever uttered

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in his hearing one of the flat, sickly things these "two-

years-olds" say in print nowadays? In my opinion there would

have been a case of infanticide in our family.