Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1886 — How Bill Lit the Fire. [ARTICLE]

How Bill Lit the Fire.

“Mebby you’ve seen my boy Bill hanging around here!” queried a farmer of a policeman at the Central Market yesterday. “He’s a commonlooking chap, a little bow-backed, and has red mittens, a blue comfoiter and a scared look.” “I saw such a chap about an hour ago, but he’s a man grown.” “So’s Bill. He’s as big as anybody, but he don’t know nuthin’. The other morning he got up to start the fire, and come to look around he couldn’t find a match in the house. It’s half a mile to the nearest naybur’s, and what did that smart son of mine do? He put the kindling into the cook stove, tucked some paper under it, and then got down the shot-gun to try a brilliant experiment. He thought the flames of the powder would set the kindlings going and save him a tramp. ” “And didn’t it?” “Why, the long-legged ignoramus never stopped to see if the gun wasn’t already loaded, when, as a matter of fact, she had a big charge of powder and a handful of buck-shot already down. When that gun went off the report riz everybody out of bed in a twinkling, and away went all the glass in the kitchen windows. \Ve haven't got the house fairly clear of smoke and ashes ■ yet, while the charge of shot blew the whole back of the stove out.” “What did the boy do?” “He was lying on his back on the floor when I got down. I got some water and put out the conflagration in his hair and eye-brows and goatee, and then I led him to the back door and gave him a lift which lit him over a snow-drift six feet high. I guess I was a little too hasty. I heard he came to town, and I thought I’d hunt him up and sort o’ apologize.” At that moment Bill came around a corner of a butcher market, and the father held out his hand and said: “Bill, you are the biggest fool in the State of Michigan, but you can come back home all the same. ” “Do you want me to?” “Sartin. You don’t know ’null to chaw gum, and it’s a wonder you hain’t bin bit by cats since you left home. Gitin thar’ and mind the team, while I go and price a new cook-stove.”—De-troit Free Press.