Rensselaer Republican, Volume 12, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1880 — The Mistaken Kindness of a Philanthropic Father. [ARTICLE]

The Mistaken Kindness of a Philanthropic Father.

A whiffling wind sent it whirling and gyrating through the air, apparently through the open window in the upper storv of some building in the neighborhood. It was difficult to tell wnat it was as it floated overhead. It might be a handkerchief, a sheet of paper, a night-cap, a lady’s collar or any other light thing of that kind. At length it came down, and the reporter ran and put his foot on it to keep it from being picked up by the wind and again whirled away. It proved to be a few sheets of paper, crumpled so that they stuck together, and the reporter, on smoothing them out, found them to be covered with writing, as follows: September 1, 1879.—We have just moved into our'new house, and this is a good time to start the diary that I have been so long contemplating. No one, I think, ever starts a diary except at some epoch, however trifling. September s.—Our new house is just lovely. That is to say, it has a large recess front door, with no end of wide steps, where several couples can sit of an evening and not crowd each other. There is a crook in the street close by, and the street light over the way is thus brought behind an umbrageous tree, making everything light around, whilst our front is thrown completely in the shade. Lucy and Nellie and 1 have been comparing notes about this peculiarity, and we agree that it is more than satisfactory. September 6.---What splendid weather we are having and what delightful evenings we spend on these front steps! The dim, religious light makes everything so cozy, and Fred always seems to feel happier out there than anywhere else. But the moon will soon be a little troublesome by lighting up the scene too vividly. But no matter for that, if Fred is here alone, as we can sit in the recess, and the moon cannot shine in there. September 17.—How provoking! I was out shopping this afternoon, and when I got home I found the gas-fitter at work putting a huge lantern in the recess of the doorway. I asked them what that was for, and they said papa had ordered it. I bounced him about it when he got home, and he said that he had noticed that we all sat out in front a good deal and thought he would make it as nioe as he could for us. Poor, dear, innocent old papa! He is so good and kind and always means so well. But then he knows so little about

things. Of coarse, I coaid not explain to him why it was so undesirable to have oo much light on the subject; but I suggested to him that our gas bills were already prettv large. But he replied that we could turn down the gas in the back parlor while we were sitting oat there, and that would make it all right There is one comfort, however: We don’t need to light the lantern, and we won’t September 20.—Last night Fred, and Gsu, and Harry were all here, and we were all-out on the front steps having such a good time, when papa came Some. With his hearty ways, there was of course a great hubbub of hand-shak-ing, welcoming, and all that sort of thing, which was the fashion, I suppose, when he was a youngster. By the way, it seems droll to think that he ever was a youngster; but I suppose he was. When the performance was through with, papa, exclaimed, in his bluff way, “Why bless me! what are you all sitting in the dark for, when it is so easy to nave a light?” With that he ran and got a match, and in an instant everything was in a blaze of glory, with what we girls nickname his ‘’calcium light.” The effect was just what any one but papa would have anticipated. In the language of Scripture —I think it is Scripture, or is it Tristam Shandy? But it reads, “ And immediately there was a great calm.” In a few minutes, when the silence was beginning to become painful, Fred suggested that we go in and have some music. I think that is what they call cutting the Gordian knot. We went in and in a few minutes all the rest followed after us. I watched my chance, and slipped and turned the calcium light on, thinking that- perhaps we would all go out again. But it is sometimes difficult to take up the thread of anything just where it was broken off, and the evening was completely spoiled. September 24.—Papa keeps on lighting his calcium every night whenever he sees any one sitting out in front, just as if he were doing the kindest thing in the world, as no doubt he thinks he is. But good often comes out of evil, as I heard a preacher say once, and it has turned out so in this case. The second night of papa’s illumination I saw that Fred was growing restless, poor fellow; I knew just what was the matter with him, and I would have grown restless, too, if I had been a man, but we women have more control of ourselves. I tried to be as interesting as I could, but it was no use. Fred would not get interested, and directly he said, quite abruptly: “ Let’s go and get some ice cream.” It was the same way the next night and the next, and last night we went ott to the theater and to-moirow night we are going to a concert. I don’t know that the calcium is as bad as I thought it was and- papa builded better than he knew, unless he was deeper than I ever gave him credit for. September 30. —The evenings are now too cold to set out in front and Fred and I have got into such a habit of going to theaters, concerts and dances that I am seldom home of an evening. December 4. —It is now more than two months since I have written a line in my diary. lam getting tired of it any way, and what with Fred being here every night and me being taken up every day planning things, I don’t set any time—so here is an end of the usiness. —Missouri Republican.