Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 February 1897 — The Little Hatchet Story. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Little Hatchet Story.

“Please, Dan’pa, will 'oo tell me,” asked a small but thoughtful youth, “Why Is a little hatchet culled a symbol of the truth?” “Why, don’t you know?” said grandpa. Little Hobby shook Ills head, “I tooly don’t.” he answered. “Then you ought to,” grandpa said. “All ready,” he continued, taking Bobby on his knee, “It’s going to be a story, and you’re wide awake, I see. Once on a time a little boy of Just about your lift Received u little hatchet from his father for a gift ’’ “Oh, what a funny present,” thoughtful Hobby cried. “Suppose That boy had chopped Ills Ungers off and bloodied all Ills clothes; l dess his foolish papa then would cry a lot. 1 say! Why didn't that boy’s mamma take the hatchet right away?” “Perhaps she didn’t know It,” grandpa laughed; “at any rate Next morning bright and early rose that little hoy elate. To try his little hatchet; In his father’s garden he Displayed his skill by cutting down a favorite cherry tree.” “A cherry tree?” cried Bobby. “Weren’t any woods around? Why, cherries are the goodest things to eat I over found; I dess that little fellow wasn’t smart a bit, like me— Say, Dan’pa! Do you fink I'd kill a lovely cherry tree?” “Of course you wouldn’t, Bobby; you’re too foml of things to eat; But, just for fun, suppose you did, and then had chanced to meet Your father In the garden, and he sternly asked you who Cut down his favorite cherry tree. Now, tell me what you’d do.” “Well, Dan’pa! let me fink. If I cut down his cherry tree And papa came and caught me with the hatrbet. wouldn’t he Know certain sure I did it? If I told a story, why He'd whip me twice as hard, you know, for telling him a He. “But If I looked real sorry and I didn't skip, and su'd, ‘Dear pop! forgive poor Bobby, who cut down your tree;’ Instead Of getting any whipping wouldn’t papa say, ‘My son! Because you didn’t tell a lie, no whipping will be done?’ ” “Ahem!” said Grandpa, startled by the wisdom of the tot, “That’s just the thing that happened In the story. Now you trot Away to bed, and say your prayers before you close your eyes, And dream about the whippings bad boys get for telling lies.” —Detroit Free Press.

His works and name shall ever live Till chaos rules the earth; Let every patriot hail the day That celebrates his birth.