At three o'clock in the morning she came downstairs, lighted lamp in hand, and alarm clock set to go off.

As soon as the alarm-bell began to ring, the girl awoke, startled to see her mother standing there with the lighted lamp, herself cold and stiff with the discomfort of her position.

"And that was the end of that," said the mother.
Here was common-sense, practical, hard-headed training instead of worry.

Bend your sense, your intellect, your time, your energy, to seeking how to train your children, instead of doing the senseless, foolish, inane, and utterly useless thing of worrying about them.
Imagine being the child of an anxious parent, who sees sickness in every unusual move or mood of her boy or girl.

A little clearing of the throat--"I'm sure he's going to have croup or diphtheria." The girl unconsciously puts her hand to her brow--"What's the matter with your head, dearie; got a headache ?" A lad feels a trifle uncomfortable in his clean shirt and wiggles about--"I'm sure Tom's coming down with fever, he's so restless and he looks so flushed!" God forbid that I should ever appear to caricature the wise care of a devoted mother.