Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 January 1884 — THE BAD BOY. [ARTICLE]

THE BAD BOY.

“Tell, what did yon get ffom Santa Clsti,* asked the grocery man of the j bad toy as he oame into the grocery with ; a big blue necktie, on which was pinned a piece of beer glass cut in imitation of j a diamond. “Santa Claus must have j remembered you splendidly, ” and the ' grocery man handed the boy a sour ; orange. “Oj don’t talk to, me about Santa 1 Clani,” said the boy, as he bit into the orange, and then went to the vinegar barrel and drew some vinegar in a glass and took a swallow to sweeten the taste of orange. “Do you know, I wonder therejis a boy in this whole world that i does iot grow rip to be a first-class liar, I when they have their parents lie to them the fir£ seven years of their lives about Santa Claus? What can a child think, when told it is wicked to lie, and then find out that its parents have been lying to it, about the Santa Claus business ? Do you know, I have watched for Santa Claus to come down chimneys. ” “P, that is all right, but what did you get ?” said the grocery man. “I got nice enough things, but I haven’t got them now. I traded off a lot of my things for presents for some boys down onr way, that didn’t get anything. I made a change in the Christ-mas-tree business, at our olmrch. You see, they have been in the habit of getting all the children together the night before Christmas, and having a Christ-mas-tree, and it is cruel on the poor children. The rich parents put expensive presents on the trees for their children, and the poor children get a 10 cent whistle, or a popcorn ball, or an orange. The poor children began to think Santa Claus showed partiality, and that he was in the employ of rich folks, and they were beginning to get sour on Santa Claus, but this time me and my oham sold all tho presents we got at home, and went and bought a whole lot of nice things for the poor boys, and when the man began to distribute the presents, and the poor boys had their mouths made up for popcorn balls, and they got club skates and fur caps, and nice warm mittens, they yelled so the minister was afraid the church would be pulled as a disorderly house. I never had so much fun in all my life as I did to see those poor boys rake in the presents. All I have got left is this necktie and alum diamond, but the fun I had makes this 40-cent diamond look as bright to me as though it was the kohinoor. Do you know pkat a kohinoor is ? It is the biggest diamond in the world.” “That’s a good boy,” said the groceryman, as he shaded his eyes to look at the bad boy’s diamond, and then wet his finger and touched the diamond and put the finger on his tongue to see if it tasted of alum. “But there -is one thing I want to talk to you about. I saw you jump on a hose-cart and ride with the firemen at the fire last night, and your pa said you was hanging around the engine-fioase a good deal. Now, you want to let up on that. Those firemen are pretty tough, and vou will be spoiled if you go with them. 1 wouldn’t have anything to do with them, or you will bring your father’s gray hairs in sorrow to the grave. Firemen are hard citizens.” “When was this that firemen were hard citizens?” asked the boy, indignantly. “They are just as good citizens as you are. If your grocery gets on fire flown cellar from the kerosene barrel, what do you do? Do you go down cellar and put it out? Naw, you don’t. You grab your insurance policy and light out, and the firemen come and they go right down into yottr subterranean hell of burning kerosene and squirt water till they are overcome by the smoke, when their partners drag them out by the legs and others take their places, and they keep up the fight until your property is saved, when you come back and kick because they tipped over a barrel of apples. They rush into burning buildings and save the lives of women and children. Do they do it for pay? Naw! All they get is $75 a month, and you pay that much to the man who drives your grocery wagon. There is not a fireman who gets as much salary as a street car conductor, in any city m the country, and the firemen are the bravest men that live. Why, gol dam you, you haven’t got as much sense as a calf.” “But, hold on, Hennery. Hear me,” and the grocery man tried to stop the bad boy; “Get out. I am asharfied to know you,” says the boy. “You and pa have always told me that we should honor the '‘brave. How do you do it? You pay a fireman, who risks his life every time he runs to a fire, just enough to board and ciothe him, and when he is played out and is sick, he is dine barged, and you forget him. Every time an alarm sounds, a fireman takes chances of not getting back to the engine-house alive. He protects your property and your life, and now you tell me he is a bad man. I would like to see you jump up at an alarm of fire, slide down a pole with your pants half on, and get on an engine and be driven over a rough pavement half a mile. Your hair would turn gray with fright the first time. I tell vou a city ought to pay firemen four hundred dollars a month, and pension them when they get their lungs bnsted, or get broke up, and support their families. Firemen ought to be loved and respected, and lionized, instead of having old idjnts call them bad men,” and the bad boy took out his handkerchief and rubbed up his diamond and stood on the front step to flash it in the eyes of his girl as she came in after a mackerel, bnt she didn’t see it and he went off feeling hurt, while the groceryman made up his mind to send a turk-y to every fireman for New Year’s.— Peck's Sun,