Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 October 1874 — TADDIE’S EXTRA. [ARTICLE]

TADDIE’S EXTRA.

BY KATE W. HAMILTON.

“Take good cate of Grandma and Kitty." said papa. “ Be as good a boy as you can, Taddie." said mamma. And those were the very last words, as the carriage drove away from the gate. Taddie went back into the house, feeling considerably older and several inches taller than usual. He had been allowed to sit up an hour later than his accustomed bed-time to see his father and mother start for the depot. And then Grandma and Kitty had been left in his charge. Certainly they needed somebody to take care of them for Grandpa had to be away nearly all day. Taddie walked through the hall with long steps, pushed his hands down into his pockets, whistled, and thought what an important thing it was to be a large boy. As for being good, he would be that, of course. He thought about it the first thing next morning, and while he was waiting for breakfast he drew from his pocket a hit of pencil and a little note-book: — He had paid Bill Jones two marbles and a whip-lash for that book because he admired its red morocco cover and nice white leaves; but he had not known exactly what to do with it after he got it, and so had only drawn a few pictures of very wonderful Indians and some curious horses in it. Now, however, he concluded to keep a journal: and, sharpening his pencil, he wrote, with a great deal of care and effort: “ Rurzolved —to be xtry good to Day." His little sister Kitty, seeing him so busy, came to his side. “Wh at you doing, Taddie? Let me see?" “No.” said Taddie. “I’m busy with my private 'counts. They ain’t for little girls to look at.”

Kitty had caught sight of some of the feathered Indians, and thought they might be interesting; but she was so surprised at Taddie's grand manner that she only opened her blue e ves very wide, and did not say a word when he slipped the book into his pocket. She found Taddie surprising a good many times that day. When she and her whole family of dolls gave a concert in the back jmrlor he was very obliging in the way of scattering handbills, introducing the singers, and furnishing instrumental music on his tin trumpet. But he kept saying so gravely and so often: “ Kitty, put your hair back,"’ “ Kitty, don’t stand on one foot," or “Kitty, don’t lean out the window, ’’ that at last Kitty folded her small hands behind her and looked at him. .“Taddie Nelson, what makes you keep saying ‘Don't, Kitty,’ all the time, ’sif you was my —my grandfather or something’ ’ * * —. —— " ’Cause I'm the biggest, and papa told me to take care of you,’’ said Teddie. " Humph: You needn’t do it any more, then," said Kitty, shaking her, flaxen curls. - I guess, if it had been mamma, she’d h.ivc told me to take care of you.” Taddie frowned a little. He was restless agd. dissatisfied, and began to be afraid lie could not carry out the resolution lu had printed so carefully; for what he meant by being extra good was to be good in some uncommon and extraordinary way. and he did not seem to find any such way. Kitty wanted, 'him for a eood many plays; hut some he would got try at ail and the •tliers he did not take much interest in. Any common boy could play; there was nothing wonderful about that, and it didn’t look much like taking care of anybody. Kitty grew tired of, such poor company by and by. and wandered away by herself, leaving Taddie to gaze out of the window and be as dull as be pleased. His grandmother called to him now and then, asking him to bring in an -armful of wood or a pail of waterfront the well.' 5 He went slowly and not very willingly. He hated such little-boy work. If she should only ask him to do some great thing he should like it better, he said to himself. ' “ ’Dade it’s a dale of trouble to bring all the wather from the out-door clsthern. I'm sorry the kitchen pump’s broke at alb” said Bridget’s voice; Taddie listened. He hadn't heard of that before.

“What’s the matter with the pump. Grandma?” he asked. “ There is nothing wrong with the pump. It is only a hole in the pipe that brings the water up from the cellar cistern,” answered Grandma. “ I meant to have asked your Grandpa to mend it be; fore he went away this morning. He could have soldered it nicely, I know, so that it would have been all right. But I forgot it.” “Sure it's a knowin’ gintleman he is,as can do so many things hisself widout sendln’ for a man at all,” said Bridget, admiringly. “I wonder if ’’began Taddie, and then he stopped. He had almost so id that he wondered if he could not do it; but he was 6ure Grandma would only laugh and say no, so he did not fin sh the sentence. Bridget thougnt it a wonderful thing for a man to do. Waat would she think of a boy that could do it? Taddie’s eyes grew bright as he studied the subiect. “ Taddie,” 6aid Grandma, “ I wish, you would run over to Mrs. Vale’s and get some milk for me. I will put a pitcher here on the table, and you can take it when you are ready. Only go pretty soon.” “ Y-e-s-’m,” answered Taddie, very slowly. - " ■ c He did not wapt to do it at all. Why couldn’t be do some real useful thing, like mending the pipe, t instead? He was certain he could do that, for he had

watched Grandpa heat his iron and melt the solder more than onto, and it looked easy-enough to be just fun. Then he began to wonder how large the hole was and in what part of the pipe; and, when Grandma and Bridget were not looking, he tiptoed down into the cellar to see. Once there, however, he did not examine the hole first ; but hunted up the solder. Then he looked tor the iron Grandpa had used; but that was nowhere to he found. He thought a heated poker would do as well, though, and by this time he had quite decided to do the mending himself. Grandma had asked him to go for the milk; but, of course, she would father have the pipe fixed, and wouldn’t she be surprised '’ He could not heat the poker in the kitchen without some one noticing or asking questions: but there was in one part of the cellar an old stove that Bridget sometimes used on washday.-, and he could make a fire in.that. —•• It's awful hard work, though," he said to himself when lie had shaken out the ashes and got his fuel together. Taddie was not used to making fires, atjd he grew very dusty, sooty and tired before he could make this one buf'h. Just as it began to blaze nicely lie heard Kitty’s voice in the va'rd: “Taddie: Taddie)” He did not want her calling him in thatway and she would be sure to search until she found him. and, besides, it would be pleasant lo have iter help, so he eliinhcd up to one of 1 he small high windo wr amt answered' softly;' “Kitty*" “ Whv! what arc you down there'for?” asked Kitty. “Hush! Don’t say anything to anybody, hut slip down here when they’re not looking," said Taddie. “I want to tell you something." The prospect of a secret brought Kitty very speedily. “ Well?” she said eagerly, when she stood by Taddie’s side. '• You see," explained Taddie, “ Grandma wants this pipe mended, and I’m going to do it all by myself, if you’ll help me. We'll s’prise her.” “Yes, I will,"' said Kitty, nodding her head approvingly. She liked surprises and had great faith in Taddie’s ability to do most things. “Oh! you’ve got a fire!” “ Don’t talk so loud,” whispered Taddie. “ 1 built the fire so I can get this poker real hot to mend with.” showing a Tung iron poker he had picked up. “ I’m going to heat it now. You watch and ihen you'll know, too, Kitty.” But heating the iron took some time because Taddie was so impatient that lie pulled it out every two or three minutes to see if it was beginning to turn red. “Grandma tells when her flat-irons are hot this way,” said Kitty at last.. holding it up near her cheek. “ (.)h! Your hair, Kitty. You’re burning your hair!” cried Taddie. •' Slv! how it frizzles up,” said Kitty, dropping the poker and looking at her curls in dismay. “Now one side will be shorter than the other and I’ll look all crooked. 1 guess your old pokeris hot enough for anything." “Well, I'll go and mend now; only I don’t know where the pipe—ls. broken,” answered Taddie. . Kitty knew. She had been down-stairs in the morning when Bridget tried to pump, and had seen where the water ran out. “ And it’s where the pipe goes through the coal cellar, way up high, where you can't reach it, Taddie.” It proved to be so, indeed. And while they talked and looked tiie iron cooled, am! bail to be placed in the fire once more. “ We can pile up tubs or something for me to stand on,” said Teddie. And the t wo went busily about it. Hard work it was, top, lifting and dragging tubs and boxes into the place they wanted them, and trying to do it so very quietly that no sound of the moving should be heard up-stairs. They arranged an empty uox, with a tub turfted bottom upward upon it, and a small cask on top of that. That would ,Jae. quite high enough, Taddie thought; but lumps of coal did not make a very even floor for the box to stand upon, and it shook and tilted so that he had to climb up very carefully. “ Now bring me the poker, Kitty," he j whispered, eagerly. “ Oh! it's beautiful and red'mnv,” said j Kitty; in delight, bringing the iron with j her handkerchief wrapped about the handle, to keep it from burning her fingers. Taddy took it and melted some of the solder easily enough; but he could not make it stick to the pipe. He could not j think how Grandpa managed it. , “ 1 s’pect maybe you’d better heat the j pipe real hot,” said Kitty. » v , j So Taddie tried that, and held the hot j poker over the spot, until he suddenly j discovered that he was melting the lead j pipe and had made the hole three times as large as it was at first.- “ Oh)dear!” he cried, starting back. And with that movement the box tipped, and away went tub, cask, Taddie and poker, rattling and crashing down upon the coal, while Kitty screamed loudly enough to raise the household. Grandma and Bridget came running down-stairs in great haste, and Grandma certainly was as much surprised as anybody could wish. “ Why, Taddle Nelson! How came you here? *1 thought you had gone for milk long ago.” *■'•; — —r7~ “ I was mending the pipe,’’ said Taddie, faintly.

“ Mending the pipe! I’ll be thankful if all your bones don't need mending notv!” exclaimed Grandma. They did not. Every bone was whole; but he had bruised his"back, cut his forehead on the coal and burned his hand with grasping the hot poker as he fell, and was altogether so sober and forlorn as he lay on the lounge that evening that Kitty’s tender little heart was" verv anxious to comfort him. “ Couldn’t you'muse yourself with vour private ’counts, Taddie’?” she asked,* innocently. Taddie fairly groaned as he remembered what he had written. “ I don't., see why everything need tome out this way when anybody tries to be extra good,” he said. ~ Grandpa dropped his paper and looked over his spectacles. “ There is a verse in a very old book, Taddie, which says: ‘To o’bey is better than sacrifice’; and it means that it is better to do faithfully the small dutips we are told to do than to attempt greater good deeds of our own seeking—better even if it is less glory.” “I don’t care anything about glory now,” answered Taddie, so meekly that Grandma could not help smiling behind her knitting. Taddie made just one more entry in his red note-book, and that was the next morning: “Rurzolved to try to be Just common good awl the Time.’’ After that he stopffpi keeping a journal and the

I.'• ■ ■ ! boojk was given up to more pie lures of Indians arid wild horses.— As; Tv ; ,m „;jb, ,■■ ■■ •• ■ ••