The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 6, 1904, Page 2

p THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. fortable, an’ I noticed, though I didn’t t them kmow I did, how they'd turn ound an’ look at me. I didn’t blame I was goin’ to study them that why shouMin’t they study me? v've got to live all the time in the - house with folks, it's just as well know all you can about ‘em. soon 1 opened up the basket I knew they hadn't had h to eat at homie ' that mornin’ Jim couldn’t cook very well, an’ & they hadn’'t had tu An' I nt they'd better eat now while was on the road se there'd be much to see after they got to town. hadn’t had a thing e was at the county-seat, believe that either ome of »oys had to the place. was just the r miles away ever they the town t crowds comin’ in rections, so the road got d but there'd been a rain t the dust was laid, an r time. b we got to town an’ t of a stofe Jim get somethin’ before we was n't know what, the ring, ft the boys settin' in n’ went into the store. to see, an’ Jimmie 1 watchin’ out for the >t into the store te¢ go an' get ‘No, sir, we ain’l that. If you can go ut bein' shaved or trimmed, you car near ade, an’ we'll just arried before that say anything while buggy =2bout bein’ t's just as well that the know how their pa ngs saild to him once nd o' keeps their re- n’t you think? s to be at the fair- nister we went to so we drove right way, was married, just the minister an’ his wife an’ daughter an’ the two boys bein’ there. Then they asked us to stay there at their house an’ watch the parade from their porch. It was a mighty good place, cause the whole thing had to pass by, an’ we watched it till it all n we went over on the r side of the block an’ watched it back. I pever see fwo boys en- hing more than they did that. ed the team in the min- d, an’ after the parade we to where the circus tents ee the man walk the tight see the girl go up in the 1 thought the boys would go when we drove over in the the trees by the fair-ground eat dinner they couldn’t any t than they could fy. I made hen they got done there r ore of a hole in the big of lunch I'd brought. Jim had bargained with the minister to put the team in his barn, so after we'd finished eatin’, he drove off with the team an’ the two boys. I knew they'd rather be with him, an’ I waited at the gate for to come back. They got back pretty soon, for we wanted to see ev'rything, beginnin’ a¢ the sideshow, an’ takin’ the rest in order. We was the first to go into the side- , an’ we stayed there till we heard n callin’, ‘Menagerie now open Then we went in to animals, an’ stayed there till for the show to commence I had told Jim to get re- ats when we was downtown, e had plenty of time an’ no hurry- twas worth all it cost extry. ught we all might as well be com- e, b it was the boys’ first my weddin’ day. We just got into our seats when the show be- gan. Jim sat on one end of the row, with Jimmie next to him, an’ Frankie next to me. They hadn’t found time to baske e big tent.’ the an say much to anybody, either Jim or me, their mouths was open so much of the time. 1 had 'em leave their coats in the buggy, 'cause it was so hot, but they had to have their shoes on to keep from bein’ hurt when they was stepped on table So they was fairly com- njoyed the show. It was the ig one I'd ever seen, an' Jim was kind o' gettin’ acquainted with his boys a little. He seemed kind o' su'prised to hear some of the things Jimmie could tell about the animals in the menagerie. Read 'em in a book at school, an’ remembered ‘em, too. I thought the boys would split laughin’ at the clowns, an’ I'd set an' watch the boys half the time, an’ Jim some, an’ the show the rest. I see pretty near ev'rything, but it looked kind o' different lookin’ at it from the stand- point of a stepmother with two boys to raise “Finally, waen the trained dogs come Frankie could hardly stand it. I was Jookin' at somethin’ goin' on in one ring,~an’ Jimmie was talkin’ to his pa, so Frankie, when he see them little dogs on the platform in front of him, he says, ‘Juet look at "em, Jimmie,” but Jimmie was busy, so he turns to me, Just Jock at ‘'em.” I was busy lookin’ omethin’ else, 8o he grabs my hand ' says, ‘Just leck at them dogs, ma.’ That brought me to, an’ I turned to- ward him, but T see he'd noticed what he'd sald, an’ loaked kind o' sheepish, didn’t look at me, so I pretended not to notice what he'd said, an’ pretty on he felt gll right again. In a min- te it slipped out agaln when he see he dogs tumblin’ an’ thought I didn't ‘em. I was too busy lookin' at the “g at my end of the tent bt I heard when he called me that. An’ after t it seemed to come as natural to m as you please. “After while the men come 'roynd an’ was sellin’ tickets for the concert after show. Jimmie loves music, an’ he asked his pa if we was goin’ to stay for that. ‘It's only ten cents, pa,’ he seys. Jim sald, ‘Ask your ma, an’ turned to me, an’' says, ‘Can ve stay for the concert?” 1 didn't hear him, ‘cause I was lookin’ hard at the swingin' by ber teeth, an' he says “gain, ‘Ma, can’t we stay for the con- cert” Then I told him, ‘Yes,’ an’ Jim ot ‘the tickets. “While we was waitin’ after the show & over for the concert to begin, we all got up to stretch ourselves, 'cause even them reserved seats was kind o hard, an’ when we sat down again, Jimmie was mext to me. He didn't have much to say while there was any on music goin’ on, but he talked as fast as could be whenever there was any- thing else on the platform, an’ maybe it was wrong, but I was always lookin’ gome other way or somethin’ so he had to say ev'rything over an’ say ‘Ma’ to catch my attention. I kind o™ liked to hear the sound o’ that. “Well, after while, the whole thing was over, an’ though we tried to stop in the menagerie tent to look at the animals, they drove.us out of there, an' we walked down the street to where the team was. The boys an' their pa hitched up, an' we started home. As soon as the boys climbed into the bugey I told \em to take off their shoes an’ rest their feet, so they wouldn’t be so sore they couldn’t walk on them next da: Frankie was ridin’ with me, an’ Jim dnd Jimmie was in the front seat. The horses was a lit- tie too excited for Jimmie to handle, an’ besides it would be gettin’ dark be- fore we got home, an’ Jim would have to drive then. We opened up the bas- ket, an’ the boys ate when they could find time between their talks, an’ we a mighty happy time for awhile. ¥ I poticed Frankie wasn't sayin’ g0 much, an’ I slid my arm around him where he sat up stiff an' half asleep, bobbin’ around with ‘the joltin’ of the buggy. Pretty soon he snuggled down next to me an’ was sound asleep, an’ 1'd feel him sigh once in awhile, he was so tired an’ excited. An’ I could almost guess what his dreams was, for my head was runnpin’ over full of pink an’ green girls, an’ big bears, an’ weddin'- rings, an cute little dogs, an’ bands, an’ ‘Get your concert tickets’ an’ ‘Lemo, lemo, ice-cold lemo!’ After awhile Jimmie dozed off, an’ we drove on in quiet. The teams ahead an’ be- hind turned off, one by one, an’ soon we was left alone on the road. I was half dozin’ myself as I hugged Frankie up close to me, an’ Jim was noddin’ on the front seat. “At last, the horses turned out, an’ stopped In front of a gate. Jim climbed out, wakin’ Jimmie in doin’ so0, an' we drove up to a house. Jim got out again, handed the lines to Jimg mie, an’ sald, ‘Hold ’em, I'll be out in a minute.’ He lifted Frankie down, an’ the boy waked up as his feet struck the ground. Then Jim unlocked the door, an’, scratchin’ a match, lit the lamp. Frankie came in with me, an’ with his eyes about half shut, started for the stairs. As he opened the door, he said, ‘Good night, ma;' then I heard him stumblin’ up the steps. “I dropped into a rockin'-chair, for 1 was dead tired. It's no small day's work for a woman of my age to ride twenty-five miles, get married, an’ go to the circus all in one day. “Pretty soon Jimmie came in just ahead of his pa, an’ dropped his shoes in the corner, threw his hat on a chair an’ with the words, ‘Goo’ night, pa, goo’ might, ma,’ he stumbled up the stairs after Frankie. Then Jim came in an’ dropped Into a chair, an’ pulled off his shoes. ‘Well, I guess our weddin’- trip's over,’ he says.” — CHAPTER IIL “Desperit Remedies. “Well, well, I'm glad to see you. Come right in an’ take off your things. You're lookin’ pretty well. Seems like I ain't seen nobody for weeks. Just the boys an’ Jim to talk to, now the hired man’s gone, An' the boys ain't been just the most happy folks the last while. They've been feelin’ kind o sick. What's the matter? Oh, nothin’ serious. But I've been settin’ here chucklin’ to myself just thinkin’ how the two o' ’em got their come-up- pance. You know when I came here when we was married, . the boys (they’re fourteen an’ twelve), seemed to feel all right toward me, an' called me “Ma,’ an’ I liked "em real well. But you see while Jim didn’'t have nobody but hired men around, the boys had been kind o' neglécted, an’ I noticed some- thin' was up soon’s I come here. “Pretty ‘'soon, ome day I smelled t'batco on Jimmie's clo’'es. The hired man wasn’t here then and the boy hadn’t heen off to the neighbors, though one or two of the neighbors’ boys had been over here, an’ Jim don’t smoke, s0 I knew Jimmie was begin- nin’. | 'Well, T don't know as you knew it, but I hate t'bacco. You knew fit, did you? Well—I made up my mind to let Jimmie break himself of smokin’ just as quick as I could. Didnt take me very long either to make up my mind how to do it. One evenin' (we didn’'t have no help, you know) one evenin’, Jim an’ the boys .come home from work. The hired man was away for a few days. They'd been at some light work that day, so I knew they wouldn't be so awfully hungry. But when they got home, there 1 was in the kitchen, settin’ on the floor, moanin’ with the earache. I'd started to get supper an’ had just got it where. nobody else couldn’t take hold of it an’ get nothin’. You know how supper is, or any meal. If you leave it at just the Tight time, nobody else can't take hold an’ get anything, startin’ all over again. Well, I'd just got to. that time, when the earache come on. “The boys come rushin’ in soon's they got the horses unharnessed an’ there I was, settin’. on the floor, with my head wrapped up in a flannel rag. 1 must have been a sight, but I didn’t care, so long as I carried out my plans, There I set an’ moaned, an' groaned, an’ Jim an’ the two boys flew. 'round like chickens with their heads cut off, tryin' to relieve me. But there wa'n't nothin’ they could do for me. There was just one thing I wanted. Just one thing I knew would cure me. Sweet \\ NU#2 ile, you say? No, not that. It was to have t'bacco smoke blowed in my ear. Now Jim don't smoke. He can't stand the stuff. He got too much once when he was little, “Right while I was in the midst of it came a rap on the door, an’ thinks I to myself, “There’s one of those old peddlers. All week when I've wanted some new tins they haven't showed themselves an' now when I don't want nobody around an’ ’specially when I don't want nobody to come in that can smoke, I'll bet he's come.” But it was just a little neighbor girl come over to borrow somethin’. % “I kept a-settin’ there a-howlin’ an’ moanin’, an’ sayin’, ‘I wish there was 2 man around this place. Nobody to smoke when I get the earache, an’ it's the only thing that’ll cure'it. If I only had a pipe—but, no, I can’t blow in my own ear, can I? What am I goin’ to do?” An' I kept on cryip’ an’ moanin’. Jim offered to go for - the doctor, but I wouldn't hear to it, an’ began scoldin’ about how next time I got married I was goin’ to marry a man, an’ not an old granny that was ‘fraid to smoke for fear of smellin’ his breath up. . “Pretty soon I see Jimmy tryin' to serew up courage to say somethin’, an’ I says, “‘What is it, Jimmie? What was you goin’ to say? sideways at his pa an’ says, ‘I got & pipe, but I ain't got no t'bacco.’ ‘Well, you skip out in the woodshed,” says I, ‘an’ youw'll find a bag of t'bacco hangin’ on the rafters, the middle one. I brought it along for sheep-dip.’ “In a minute he comes back with the bag an’ a corncob pipe he'd bought off the hired man. The t'bacco I'd smelled on his clo'es didn’t smell as if ‘twere very strong, an’ I thought he must have got hold of something mild. But there wa'n't nothin’ mild about tHe stuff I had out there in the wootshed. It smelled like burnin’ rubber an’ ol’ boots an’' shoein’ horses. I wrapped my head up tight, except just the one ear, so’'s I couldn't smell the awful stuff an’ Jimmy started out bravely, but I wasn't relieved till' I saw that the boy was gettin’ all he could stand, an’ just a little more. Then I .came ‘round pretty quick an’ flew ‘round an’ got the supper an’ called 'em in. They'd gone out to do the chores then. But Jimmy didn't come. What was theé matter, you say? Oh, I knew what wag the matter with him, an’ soon as I could, I started out to find him. “I found him in the barn, doubled up on a pile of sacks. He didn’t have strength enough to tell me to go away, but I knew he wanted to. It wasn't dark yet, so I could still see what he looked like. An' I knew by his looks that the earache wasn’t the only thing that t'bacco had cured. I never see such a lookin' boy. You know how those copper-colored freckles - of his would look on a kind o' olive-green background. < You've heard of people turnin’ green with envy. Well, Jim- mie’s wasn't envy. : -good, without, He looked kind o’ “As you can guess, Jimmie wasn't very good company for several days, an’ he ain't acted just the same since. I think it's an improvement. He never suspected me, though, an’ I heard him. tellin’ the new hired man the other day that he wasn't: goin’ to smoke. He guessed if his pa could get along all his life without smokin’ he could. An’ he guessed his pa was just as good as anybody’s pa, smoke or no smoke. Then I knew he'd broke himself. ey “I didn't worry about Frankie. He's the littlest one. He's twelve, I kind o’ thought when the time come for Frankie to learn to smoke I could let him break himself like Jimmie did. If not the same way, some other just as There's lots of ways for doin’ things when your whole heart's set on doin’ 'em. Now Frankie is always gnoopin’ 'round. He never used to come into the kitchen when there was anythin’ b'ilin’ on the stove but what he’d lift the cover to see what it was. That is, when I didn’t see him. Of course, he stopped pretty quick when 1 gee him. “One day about a week after Jimmie got his fill of t'bacco, Jim heard Frankie tellin’ the hired man that he bet he could smoke an’ not get sick like Jimmie did. Jim told me an’ I knew it was time to let Frankie break himself of the t'bacco habit. Of course, I won't break people of their habits; if Z N il a body can’t break a habit himself, T ain’t a-goin’ to break it for him. Oh, yes, I'll do what I can to help him, but I wen't go so far as to do the breakin’. “Well, T smelled t'bacco on Frankie's clo'es one day an’ I knew the time had come. So that night just before sup- per, when he came runnin’ in from the barn, 1 happened to be in the butt'ry, so he dldn't see me, an’ he spled a Kkittle over the stove, b'ilin' away with the cover tight down over it. I wasn't lookin', so Frankie ups an’' lifts the cover an’ sticks his noge down to smell. Now, of course, I might have put up a sign, ‘This Here Stuff Is T'bacco, Bein’ Boiled for Sheep-Dip,’ but I didn’t think it was necessary to advertise the fact; an’ besides, them that keeps theif noses out of narrow cracks don’t usual- 1y get 'em pinched. But Frankle cer- tainly got his pinched, or worse, for when I come out of that butt'ry, there he laid on the floor, with his eyes shut, a-hollerin’ at the top of his lungs. I got him fixed up, so his eyes quit smartin’, but by that time the t'bacco steam began to get in its work an’ he was sicker'n ever Jimmie was. Both of ’em got the dose on empty stomachs, toa, so they got it for keeps. You know desperit’ diseases needs desperit’ remedies. _ “So T've beemn a-chucklin’ to myself ever since, thinkin’ how them boys have saved me all the worry about thelr ever gettin’ to usin’ t'bacco. Why, they're worse than Jim, now. They can't ‘even ride to town behind a man that's smokin' without bein’ sick. “You know when I first said some- thin' to Jim about their beginnin’ to smoke, he says, ‘Well, I'll thrash it out of 'em. You just let me ketch ‘em usin’ the stuff an’ I'll fix ‘em.” ‘Thrash nothin’,’ says I, an’ I ups an’ tells him about an old neighbor of ours years ago that didn't belleve in thrashin’. He sald that there wasn’t a thing in this world that thrashin’ was good for but just to make young ones go an’ do again the thing they was bein’ thrashed for:doin’. This old man had a son named Joe, the laziest boy I ever set eyes on. He wouldn't work. Money couldn’t hire him to work, except just when he wanted to. Finally the old m says, ‘Joé, I'm goin’ to make a ‘ gehtleman out of you. From now &h You're not to do one stroke of work, an’ if yeu do Il thrash you.' Well, Joe forgot that an’ one day when the ‘whole farm was hustlin’ to get in some hay before it fained the boy went out to the field to help. The old man see him at work an’ he comes down the field on the run. ‘See here,’ he says, ‘didn’t I tell you not to work? You'll spoil your clo’es an’ get your hands all rough. Remember what I told you? An’ he took the boy over to the fence corner an’ if he didn’t tan his hide I'll miss my guess. But it didn't do no good. Next week his brother an’ him was goin’ fishin’, an’ Joe pitched in an’ helped his brother. The old man caught him again an’ Joe was sore for a week. That made Joe mad an' he -began to work on the sly just to show his pa he could work if he wanted to. You know the old ‘man would see the work done an’ know that the hired man didn’t do’it, an’ Blll—that was Joe's brother—didn't do it, so Joe must have done it, but he wouldn't thrash him unless he caught him at it, so Joe got to doin' more an’ more without the old man’s findin’ it out an’ a boy can do a heap when he thinks he oughtn’t AN DOWN THEY BOTH WENT o-na%. AN' THAT BIG HULK] ‘OLDER. 1N ONE PILE to, so the old man got more work out o' him than if he was s'posed to be workin’. An’' I guess the old man got so he couldn’t see quite so sharp when he found the boy was really workin’. But anyway he kept up the thrashin’ long enough so Joe turned out one of the best workers I ever see an’ he's got just about the best lookin' farm around the whole country now. I don’t knew whether he keeps to his father’s way of bringin’ up boys or not, but he's got a big family of 'em. “Well, I told Jim this an’ he agreed to let me have my way an’, so far as I can see, it came out all right, for habits is like horses. Them that others breaks for you ain’t half so well broke as them you break for yourself.” CHAPTER 1V. A Cure for Strikes. “Good mornin’. Thought I'd just drop in an’ set an’ visit awhile. Jim had to come to town to stay all day an’ the boys is off to school, so I didn't have nebody to talk to, nor much work to do. Work? Why, I've got it all ar- ranged so my work ain't very heavy. ‘We don't keep a girl, but the hired man's gone now an' there's just four of us to cook for. An’ the boys helps. Goodness, yes. Before we was mar- ried, Jim an’ I talked it over. Yes, I s'pose I did do most of the talkin’, but, anyway, we agreed that the boys ‘was to help in the house all they could when we didn’t have a hired girl. Jim sald they wouldn't, but gracious, Jim don’t know his own boys well enough to know what they'll do an’ what they won’t do. I never have any trouble gettin’ 'em to do things. So now they're lots of help. “I tell you it pays to start right when you're gettin’ married. That's one trouble with gettin' married young, ’specially for girls. They don’'t know what they want, nor how to get it if they do know. But you take a middle- aged woman an’ let her get married an’ 8] a mighty poor stick if she don't know just what she wants an’ get it. I'll admit there’s one advantage in gettin’ married young. If you're goin’ to be happy you'll be happy lots longer, but then, there's this disadvan- tage, if you ain't goin' to be happy, you've got that much more time to be miserable in. But when you get mar- ried at middle age, if you're goin’ to be happy, you can be twice as happy, ’cause you know better how to be happy an’ you know enough to have an easier timé, an’ if you ain't goin’ to be happy you won't be quite so miserable as if you didn’t know how to have an easy time an’ you won't be miserable so long. “Yes, I set the boys to work the first day after I came. I told Jimmie he could help with the dishes an’ cookin’ mornin’s an’' noons the first week an’ Frankie would help at night an’ they could turn it about the next week. First thing Jimmle said, ‘Why, I never helped cook in my life an' I don't like to wash dishes.” ‘Well,’ said I, ‘who's goin' to do the cookin' an’ washin” dishes when you boys goes campin’ over to the lake?” Now the boys had never been an’ I knew they was just erazy to go. ‘Oh, ma,’ they says, ‘can we go? Goody!" It was a day’s ride to the lake an’ they couldn’t ketch nothin® when they did get there, but some of the older boys of the neighborhood had been several years before an’ the young boys was all crazy to go. Says I ‘What I counted on, was that you an’ Frankie would learn to cook so that when you do go you won't have to eat cold victuals all the time, like the boys did last time. An’ you know the cook’s always boss on a campin’ trip. An’ your pa said he thought in August some_time you could be spared.’ “Well, I didn’t have no more trouble with them boys about cookin’, an’ now they always do the dishes. It's all in gettin' boys started right an’ keepin’ them on the right track by keepin’ somethin? ‘ahead to look forward to. Only reason any boy ever got off the track is just 'cause his folks didn’t care enough, or dldn't have gumption enough, to keep him lookin’ forward to somethin’ all the time. It's easy enough to drive a hungry cow behind a wagonload of feed if she don't get a chance to ketch up, only you got to watch out that somebody else don’t give her the feed you ought to give h “Then, too, I been gettin’ some new things to make my work easler. Washin’ machine, an’ flatirons, an' a lot of things. Before we was married, when Jim was talkin’ about his bank account, I says, “When you go to town for the license, just bring along anoth- er checkbook." Then when I need any- thing I won't have to ask you for money.’ Course when I got married THE. THIRTEEN- YEAR- Q' SEVENTEEN- YEAR half he had was mine an' I wasn't goin’ to skimp myself an’ try to get along on the butter an’ egg money like so many women do. “That’s another trouble with gettin’ married young. The poor girls know how hard up they be an’ that both of ‘em have to skimp an’ save all they can, an’ so the fool wife does the house- work, an’ makes the butter, an’ tends the garden, an’ maybe feeds the pigs, an’ always gather the eggs, an’ takes care of the chickens an’ turkeys, an’ picks the fruit an’ cans it, an’ maybe helps milk, an’ cuts an’ husks corn, all s0’s to save money, an’ how much does her husband skimp himself? He has a hired man to help him, an’ for his wife to do the cookin’ an’ washin’ for, an” he works fourteen or sixteen hours a day. An’ he always has money to spend when he goes to town. But his wife! How much money does she get to spend? Just what comes from the butter an’ eggs, an' that she takes to run the house on. Instead of turnin’ that money into the common fund an’ then drawin’' out what she needs, she gets along on that little egg an’ butter money an’ the man gets into the bad habit of thinkin' that's all she needs. So it comes harder an’ harder to get anything more than that out of him. An’ by an’ by when the children come there's the children’s clo’es, an’ her own, an' dozens of other things, all to come out of that egg an’ butter money. ‘Well, you've seen so many cases just that way that I don’t need to tell you about 'em. “Now I made up my mind that I wasn’t goin’ to depend on the egg an’ butter money. That was goin® into the common fund an’ the household ex- penses was comin’ out of that same fund. Oh, it was new for Jim, but you know there’s two times to get a man to agree to things, an’ of course, after he's agreed to ’em, it's a poor stick of & woman that can’t make him hold to ‘em. One of the two times is when he's just married. That does for young married men. The other time's when he's courtin’. That's the time to get things out of widowers. So Jim an’ I understood just how things was goin’ to be run before I even set the day. I told him that when I said what he should plant on the ‘hill forty,” or the ‘corner eighty,’ he could tell me how to run things in the house, an’ not before. Henpeckin’ him? Not much! An’ besides, If a man is henpecked right he don't know it an’ thinks it's fun. “Yes, both the boys is in school now. You thought Jimmie wasn't? Oh, that didn’t last long. Come school time last month an’ Jimmie said he wasn’t goin’ to school. Just had a girl for school teacher an’ he'd stay out an’ heip ’round the farm an’ then go the winter term. So Frankie went alone the first day. The next day was rainy an’ Frankie started out alone. Soon's the breakfast dishes was cleared up I says to Jimmie, ‘I'm glad it’s rainin’ to-day. You can’'t do anything outdoors, an’ I want you to help me. It was just pourin’, but Jim had to go to town on business an’ 8o we was left alone. We started upstairs to that big room over the kitchen, you know. It had been used for a storeroom, an’ my pian was to clean that. We moved ev'rything out an’ then we started to scrubbin’, down on our hands dn’ knees. Queer time to scrub, you say? Oh, we never used to go in there, so it wouldn't get tracked up, an’ I says to Jimmiae. “This’ll make a flne place to spread out the feathers from the beds to air while we wash the ticks’ Well, just after We got started serubbin I had to go down an’ tend to my bread an’ I left Jimmie down on his hands an’ knees, scrubbin’ away. There's cne good thing about both those boys. Like their pa in that; if they once get started doin’ a thing they don’t stop till they get it done. I had just got my bread in the oven when I heard a shout outside. I stepped out on the porch an’ there was one of the neighbcrs' boys on horse- back. anything to send to the boys I've been to town an’ got to go right by the schoolhouse on the way home.” ‘There’s just Frankfe,’ says I. ‘Jimmie didn’t want to go this term.” ‘Oh, I didn’t know. I hain’t started y Where's Jimmie? says he. I told him he was doin’ some serubbin’ for me an’ you ought to have seen that boy’'s face. It broadened into a grin like an apple, cracked in roastin’. Then he said, ‘Well, I thought maybe you'd been bakin’ an’ wanted to send somethin’ to the boys. It's quit rainin’ now. But—Jimmie serubbin’!’ An* he turned that horse an’ went off down that road lickety-larrup. “Pretty soon down come Jimmie an’ I must say he’d done the scrubbin’ well. I had a good dinner ready an’ we had a right good time there that afternoon. ]t was rainin’ harder again an’ Jimmie read to me while I worked. Jimmie had rather read any time than eat, hut they didn’t have a single thing ‘round that house to read when I went there. I had some things packed away in my boxes, though, but I hadn’t un- packed hardly anything yet. I got out some papers, though, for Jimmie an’ he reads fine for a boy that aln’t had no more chance than he has. “After while Frankie come home an’ if he wasn’t a sight! Mud from head to foot, all over his clo’es, an’ all the buttons off his waist an’ most of 'em off his pants. I asked him what was the matter an’ he sald, ‘Bill Jones’ (he was the neighbor boy that stopped at the house) ‘Bill Jones come to school this afterncon an’ sald that Jimmie, our Jimmie, couldn’t come to school ‘cause he had to stay at home an’ scrub the floors. I told him he led an’ he said he seéen him. An’' then he tried to lick me for sayin’ he lied, but he couldn’t, an’ he's bigger'n me, too.” “Then Jimmie says, ‘Oh, ma, was that who you was talkin' to this morn- in'? I was goin’ t¢ ask you an’ I forgot. You didn’t tell him what I was doin’, did you? I told him I had an’ he felt so bad he almost cried. Just then their pa come home an’ so they had plenty to' do with the chores an’ unharnessin’ an’ all. “Next mornin’ Jimmie come in when Frankie was gettin’ ready for school an’' said, ‘Ma, put up dinner for me, too. I ain’t goin’ to have the beys think I have to stay at home to do scrubbin’.’ I went an’ got out a tablet an' leadpencil I'd been savin’ an' put ‘em with his dinner pail an’ when he started lookin’ for his slate I said, “You’d better not take that. I hear this teacher’s goin’ to have a clase in al- gebray. You've been clear through your arithmetic, hain't you? ~ ‘Yes, twice,” says he. He likes that best of anything except just readin’. “Well, then, if you're studyin’ algebray, an’ I guess you might as well go into the class if they is one, you dom’t want to be usin’ a slate an” pencil like a primer class boy. An’I got an old algebray in one of my boxes if they use that kind. “After he'd got started I called him back an’ told him that seein’s the next week Tuesday was his birthday, if he wanted half a dozen of the neighbors” boys to come an’ spend the evenin’, I'd make candy. I guess they hadn’t ever made much of birthdays. “Then he started off on the run, to catch up with Frankie, an” I guess he run all the way to scheol, for he was one of the first ones there, the teacher told me afterward, an’ when she got there he was holdin’ one of the biggest boys down on the ground (he'd finished with Bill Jones) an' was sayin’, ‘Yes, I was scrubbin’ yesterday an’ I learned how to do it so well that you'll have to do a lot of it yourself to get clean.” Then he'd scrub fhe boy’s face with mud an’ fill his ears. That put an end to the boys sayin’ anything about scrubbin’. “Well, the next Tuesday came ‘round an' we had an éarly supper so's to have time to get things ready, for the boys was comin’ early. Pretty soon they all come, seven of ‘em, three families, Bill Jones among ‘em. They'd all forgotten or at least didn’t say nothin’ about the gerubbin’. I made candy an’ the boys cracked nuts an’ I never see boys hava a better time. After while Jim went to bed an’ the boys was playin’ games in the kitchen, so I slipped away. I come back soon an' when the boys quieted down after a game of blind man’s buff, I says, ‘Jimmie, don't you want to show the boys your birthday present?’ His eyes stuck out. ‘That's s0,” says I, ‘I forgot to show it to you. Just go upstairs. The boys can go with you an’ you'll find it in the old store- room. There's a light up there.” They all started, Jimmie ahead. I heard 'em all talkin’ all the way up the stairs. Then I heard the door opened into the storeroom. Not a sound for a second, then if Babel itself wasn't turned loose, I don’t know what it was. “What they saw when they opened the door was that great big room with a little fire In the fireplace, an’ on one side of the room was a bed with a rug in front. In front of the fireplace was a little round table with a good big lamp on it all lit an’ an easy rockin’'- chair besjde it. On the table was a book, ‘Robpinson Crusee,’ opened at the picture of Crusoe's findin' the foot- print, an’ on a little bookcase om the wall was two or three others, ‘Wood's Natural History,” an’ ‘Arabian Nights," an’ ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ an’ "npuur', Island," an' somie old back numbers of Youth's Companion, sewed together. Or the floor beside the fireplace wis a woodbox, on ome side, on the other was a box of nuts, with a hammer stickin’ up in it an’ an old flatiron fastened up in one corner. Aw last, but the first thing the boys saw, was aver the fireplace a pair of deer horns that used to be my brother’s, an’ on ’em rested the riffe that Jimmie had been teasin’ for so long. Below that hung a sign, ‘This room presented to Jll’:nmie on his fifteenth birthday.’ “Pretty soon I heard the door opened at the head of the stairs an’ heard Jimmie say, ‘Just laok around, fellers, T'll be back in a minute." - Then I heard him come runnin’ down the stairs, He ¢ome runnin’ across the kitchen to where I was pickin' up an’ cleanin’ th candy dishes, an’ I could see his ,,.: e er,’ but he put his arms