Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 October 1890 — A FUNNY BOY. [ARTICLE]

A FUNNY BOY.

Hooraw!" cried Ted, from the sitting;* room doorway. “Hip, hip —” “Dear me!" said Ted’s mamma, frjm her sewing chair at the window. She glanced at the clock! Tt wanted ten minutes of five, and so il would be ten minutes more than seven whole hours before Independence Day came in. . Then she looked at Teddy in the doorway, a little boy with crimson cheeks and damp, ciirlcy hair, and a wide, straw hat in his hand, “Dear me,” she said again, only it didn’t sound a bit cross this time, “aren't you beginning rather early Teddy? You might save your noise for to-morrow, dear.” “I’ll make enough more then. Iguess 1 will,” laughed Ted. “And O iuam : ma, we’re just going to give this Fourth the jollies told seudmff you ever saw!’, , “Not with guns or cannon. Teddy?” Mrs. Iv t'f* inquired, anxiously. "NoV said Ted, “though I'd just like to have something louder than fire-crackers to shoot o(T. lint tins ..tea’tnoLc. You know the South District boys stumped us to beat ’em on a bonfire, and they’re going to build theirs on Deacon Bradley's hill, and we’re going to build ours on Ballard's— " ——— “Mr. Ballard's,” corrected mamma, with a smile. • ——- ——-—— - “Mr. Ballard’s.” said Ted. rattling on again, “and they’ll both be right in plain sight and Uncle VVinky Bell is going to say whi -h is the biggest: and whichever is. the others have got to treat ’em on lemonade and peanuts. And wo know ours'll be. because we've been hunting and hunting all the dry stuff then 1 is in Bal Mr. Ballard’s woods: and we've got some old pine stumps all split up splendid for n fire! Oh, 1 know ours’ll be tho best! We’ro going to light it at just 'zactly twelve o’clock. Won’t you get up and see it. mamma? It’ll be as big as— as a meeting house, I wouldn’t wonder.” Then Mamma Ives laughed. “Til see about it.” said she. And then she told Teddy he had better eat his supsupper and go right to bed. if lie wanted to be np in season. Teddy answered promptly, “Yes, mamma,” but-he lingered as long as possible over his bowl of broad and milk, and even then it wasn't, quite sundown when he went bouueing upstairs, to tumble into his own white nest of a bed.

Aud then he couldn't go to sleep of course he couldn’t because tho red glow of the setting sun..fell on his bedroom wall, and made him think of tho bonfire; and tho bonfire made him tfiink of peanuts and lemonade, and of how much money it would take to buy the treat, in case their side should get whipped, as of course it wouldn't; and ho hoped that there would be silver enough left in his bank to buy a dozen packs of 1 lire crackers, if no more, and wondered bow it would sound to throw fire. when it got well to blazing. — And when he had got back to the bonfire again, lying there with his blue eyes propped wide open, a voice came straight to his cars through the open w imlow.' .... "" Teddy knew the voice. It belonged to Mrs. Cates, who had run over to borrow-axup oLyeast: .amL.it. ...wak so. shrill and earnest that Teddy couldn't help hearing every Word. ••It's a dreadful pity, the boys couldn't turn their work to some account now. ain’t it? Here they've been a-scourin' the woods for dear life to get stufT for a tire, haulin’ slabs an’ everything from the mill ’mongst the rest, jest for the sake o' scein' it burn up in a heap; tin' there’s poor old Aunt Penny Peters sufferin’, its you may say. for wood to burn little by little ill her stove, senco Uncle Jackson got his leg broke. That heap o' -stu ff won 1 d.Ljat.jUer.jail.xuaunar,..'.'. Then Mrs. Cates took her cup of yeast and went home, with her apron over her head; ahd Teddy shut his eyes tight and tried to go to sleep. But dear me! it was worse than ever, i The more he tried to go to sleep) the more he couldn't go, and the more he tried not to think of the bonfire, the more he thought of it. and of Aunt Penny reters, and Uncle Jackson Peters’ broken leg, and how he always shared his cherries with them, and let them go in his field after strawberries, no matter how . much they trampled the grass. Oh dear! the twilight grew deej>er and deeper, until Teddy couldn't make - out the Jmnehes of- parrsie= on the wall paper; apd still he tossed and tumbled. *‘l wish Mrs. Cates didn’t come j over, here, ’relse she didn't talk so j loud, 'relse I didn’t hear her,” he I complained at last "But I guess— l —guess —l—” * And then mamma was 1 gently calling: “Get up, Teddy, dear, or you’tl-be late. It is almost twelve o’clock.” He was wide awake and out of bed in a minute, and dressed in another one or two; but somehow Mamma Ives couldn’t help, seeing that there wasn’t half the sparkle there ought to have been in her bey’s eyes. “What’s the matter, dear,” she asked, “are you sick?” * “Oh, no, mamma." - “You don’t feel well. Teddy?” “Yes’m I do, mamma, ** Ted answer-’ ed; “honest, true.” And *ban out of the front door, be

went, and away up the road toward th< bonfire, that wasn’t a bonfire y&h A merry 1 little group was g itherci round it, and when Teddy was almos there his quick eyes caught the glean of a match “through the dark ness - “Oh waitr’ he panted v brtmthlessly a moment l iter. “Boys -I want fit tel you something, boys. Don't you know how Uncle .Jackson us*d to give ir cherries last summer when he mi-dt have sold’em, and let us pick straw berries and: everything? And now hit leg’s broke, Sti they have:,'! got anv _ wood, ami--" ‘ The match went out. It was Winnj Barnutn who held it. and he faced. Ted,- ; dv in the darkness. “Oh. come, now,” he said, “ym don't never mean fbr us to give Unck Jack our bonfire! Cat’s foot! jud think how the South’ District bovs'd crow when we had to treat Vm! (it ’long. Ted Ives! Give me anothci match, somebody!” “Oh. don't!” cried Teddy, his voict fairly trembled with eagerness. Ti • treat ’em out of my bank money ant | the gold dollar gram’pa gave me - nU iof ’em, and all of us. too. »And we’ll j beftt 'em. anyway, because- their bon j fire'll be goiid iri two or three minut es Y ami oura’ll last all tarmmee. -0-boyw. ] lets! All that're on nty side come oven > this log.” Two came, after an instant’s hesitiI tion. t'hnrley Tt-tie and Davy Goodhue, ; and then Bert Mollis; arid arguments • began to fly thick and fast. “I'll tell you!” cried Teddy, at last, t and his eyes flashed, if you could huv? ! seen them. “I s’pose you know wh( made FouTttr o’ :July, don’t you? I’ll just tell you that you wouldn’t -liavs caught Thoma s Jefferson and John Ad, ams and and Mr. Hancock and Pari riek Somebody and -and Stonewall Jackson and George Washington doing such a mean caper as to burn all this j nice wood for fun. when a poor old lady like Aunt Penny needed every switch of it. So.” Then you could see Ted’s eyes flash. Because at that, instant a tongue o; flame leaped up from the crown of Deacon Bradley’s hill. The South District boys had sot their lire, and in a moment it' was light as day alt m round. "‘Ours would be bigger than that, 1 know,” grumbled Win. “Lot's fire up, boys; come ahead!” They all looked at Ted. His hat was off, his hair all tumbled, his checks flushed scarlet; and somehow every boy’s heart there began to warm. Something got into their eyes, too, bul it was a loud, clear, ringing shout thal -went up all the same. “Hurrah! hurrah! Hurrah for Ted! Down with the bonfire—down to Aunt Penny’s, boys! - ’ —p~ ——- So down to Aunt Penny's that great heap went by armfuls and by cartfuls: and how glad Aunt Penny was of it. you must try arid think for yourselves. This is what Winny Barnum told his mother when everything was over with: “She a’most cried—she did: and wo just fairly cheered and hollered. And { that Teddy Ives used every mite of his money to buy peanuts anil lemonade, ! though we didn’t want him to, arid he | needn’t have anyway, because Uncle j Wftiky said our fire wjis worth a dozen ;of the othgryone; and so did lots of folks, But he said he Would, because he’d said ho would. lie’s an awful funny* hoy. Maybe its because he’s always lived in the city. Anyway, he’s funny, and I guess that’s the reason.” Now', I don’t believe that made a bit of difference—do you? Teddy himself would have laughed at the idea. He laughed as it was, the | next rooming, whenqn:imma, having heard the story of the bonfire that dian’t' bum, from somebody besides Teddy, gave him a loving kiss, and told him she was proud of her hoy. “Why you, needn’t to be,” he ! said, opening his eyes very wide, j “It was worth more than forty bon ; fires to hear Aunt Penny thank us—all wTisn - 1 moir ! bit more than Twas the rest, mamma—- ! not one bit!” I But somehow I can’t help feeling j that the world would be all the bettoi ‘ for a good many more" funny bbys like Ted Ives.—Ada Carleton Stoddard, I:: Youth’s Companion." Pcail Little Sister. A knot of while . silk ribbon, which • looked as though it had seen much service, flapped drearily from the.belli knob of an East-side tenement yester- ■ day, says the New York Mail and Ex- ! press. .-. It was the symbol of bereavement. It mutely recorded the fact that an- ! other child, too weak to koop up a further struggle with life, had folded its ] little hands and ceased to know either ; weakness or pain. Busy crowds surged “ttr-awd—fro past -nvhcrc-th-o-kttot--of-ribl|on hung without noticing it at all. Similair kinds ofL-pihhftq are too common in the tenement-house-district at this season to attract attention. But a little group of children stood around the door regarding the badge of death with some Curiosity. For them it had a local interest, so tq speak, for they had known the dead j child. Presently they were joined by another little tot, who came from within the tenement. < She was received with an amount of respect that indicated’ that she was some way important The cause ol her importance was soon made known. SBeTuar "scarcely reached the steps I leading into Qje house when she siddressed the other children with all the dignity she could command: “You girls musn't stand on these steps.” she said, “but I can, because I’ve got a little dead sister up-stairs and you girl’s an’t” The other children drew away silently and respectfully. They recognized the superior claims pf the tot who had a “little dead sister upstairs,” and no one disputed them.