The first rule is parental.  The primitive monarchy is in the home.  A young baby cries.  The trained nurse turns on the light, lifts the baby, hushes it, sings to it, rocks it, and stills its weeping by caresses and song.  When next the baby is put down to sleep, more cries, more soothing and disturbance, and the setting of a tiny instinct which shall some day be will--the power of control.  The grandmother arrives on the scene.  When baby cries, she plants the little one firmly in its crib, turns down the light, pats and soothes the tiny restless hands that fight the air, watches, waits.  From the crib come whimpers, angry cries, yells, sobs, baby snarls and sniffles that die away in a sleepy infant growl.  Silence, sleep, repose, and the building of life and nerve and muscle in the quiet and the darkness.  The baby has been put in harmony with the laws of nature--the invigoration of fresh air, sleep, stillness--and the little one wakens and grows like a fresh, sweet rose.  The mother, looking on, learns of the ways of God with men. 
What characters soothe the baby's weeping?
The nurse and grandmother