Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 February 1877 — Youth’s Department. [ARTICLE]

Youth’s Department.

TIBED OF HIM. John and Tommy Lane were twine. They had lived together six long yean, but they didn’t know it until Aunt Lois told them to. “ When a birthday comes, does it mean that I have lived with Johnny so long T” 'lnqUlrdb Tommy. “Yes, just that." - , “1 don’t want to lire with him any longer, aunt! a.” ‘‘Why nott” “ pause he always lends my doublerumier to the Brentlock boys." It’s half mine,” said Johnny, earnQgtly. “;But you always lend bq.th lislfs.” “ I can’t help that,” replied matter-of-fact Johnny. “ I couldn’t cut it in two, could It" ( * You neydn’t let ’em have it at all." £* Bul l wanted to lend my half." fil’nU tihbd bf half things," said ivjk jjolorous tone. "I’m tired of Johnny, Aunt Lois." “ What Bhall we do about it?” inquired the lady, looking up from her knittingwork. " I don’t know.” ft Das singula? that just atthat moment Ofendfather Baker should drive;up in his pretty, new Heigh. " Can’t itoi> two seconds,” said he, In answer to the children’s pressing invitation. “I left your grandr mother at Jackson’s to be shod. Thought I’d come up here, Lois, and get one of these little fellows to go heme with me. If they’d ohly stopped grewihg thVee Gsttf ago, as I advised, I might take ’em th, eh?” and grandpa looked down upon the two flaxen heads and laughed very heartily. “Well, boys,” said Aunt Lois, “who’s .to, go? Make hp your minds quick." “I guess I!a better,” said Johnny; *“ Tom’s tired of me.” “ No,” said Tommy, “I must go. This is grandma’s cookie aay. You don’t like ’em half as well as I do, John.’* “Who said I didn’t?” > “ Yqu didn’t eat so many, anyhow.” Johnny didn't reply. Be was quite pure that Tommy would carry his point, as he generally did. “Come, somebody!” called grandpa, “Dolly’s getting antic.” ‘.i I’ll go,” said Tommy, putting on his overcoat. “You can see me start, John.” “Well,” replied johnny, with a sigh, “the boys can have the double-runner this afternoon, if they want it. ’Tisn’t any fun alone." “I doijjt care. Get up, Dolly!” and Tommy rode off, waving his little fur cap at his brother, who watched him till he disappeared from view. I Then he went hack into the kitchen and seated himself beside Aunt Lois.

“ There ain’t any half things at grandpa’s," said he. “ Tommy’ll nave a goofl time, won’t he, auntie?” “ I hope so. You’re willing he should go, aren’t you, Johnny?” “ Oh, yes; but I don’t get so tired of him, Aunt Lpjs.” . Aunt Lois put down her knitting-work and took the little fellow, boots and all, upon her lap. “Isn’t that your allerpaca, auntie?” he tokld wonderingly. “1 don’t care if It’s my silk," she replied, with a hug. “We’ll have apple fritters for dinner; Johnny, and you shall hqlu:me make ’ei^.”' Tommy, meanwhile, was riding merrily along toward grandma’s pleasant home. -Arrived there, he went to the barn for a look at his favorite, Brindle, to the great 'delight of Sport and Growler, who rubbed their cold noses affectionately against him, saying, "Good morning,” in their own poisy wav. Then he went into the house to assist at the “cookie" making It was his delight to cut the smooth, thin surface into all kinds of fantastic’shapes, a proceeding to which grandma never objected though it delayed her sorely. Johnny liked to do it, too; but then, johnny wasn’t there. J3e could have it all tokimself. f Look, grandma! Here’s a horse." “ Yes, dear.” “ But you can’t see way off there. Come here!” “ I can’t now till these pans are ready." [ “ Grandpa, what do you call this? It looks exactly like a fish.” “ I’d call It a fish, then." “Do c<sine and look at It.” 1 But grandpa was reading the newspaper. “ I wish Johnny was—." Tommy shipped* Was it possible that he was already beginning to miss the little brother of whom he had become so tired. He wenffda’t ackqoweledge it, even to himself. iTnMfier dinherl can have the sled, can’t i, grandpa?” • ! •. “ Yes,” And after dinner Tommy did have the Med—all to himself. Down the long hill he went, Sport and Growler following closely at his heels. Wasn’t it “ jolly,” that long, long coast, with no one to tease even for the least little corner of his sled! Didn’t he enjoy it? jtot so very much, after all. It was r such hard work to pull the sled up again. He missed Johnny’s willing little arms, then. He tried to make the dogs help him, but they wouldn’t. They were fyoupg find playful ; they had never been taugdttq worit. Tommy was glad when sapper time camfi; not because he was hungry, but because —he hardly knew why. The oookie that looked like a fish was such a yery funny one that he resolved to save it 'floor johnny. It would make him laugh, lie knew* “ Better eat it yourself,” said grandma. «It’ll-be too dry for Johnny’s teeth beforayou go home.” , •,* - • ~ ‘.‘ Why, gModmiFsV - • " There’s a storm coming.” “ Couldn’t Dolly go out in a storm ?” “ You don’t want to go home, do you?” “Who talks es going home?” cried grandpa; patting down his teacup. “ Not Tommy! Nonsense! This is a great 'deal better place. He’s our boy now. mother. -Nobody wants him at home, I know.’ r " "Tea, they do. John “does." Here Tommy’s conscience gave him a sharp littSe stab. How could he ever have thought himself tired of his brother, WhenLe as so sure of his brother’s love trundle-bed that night He had' it filfc to himself. There were no unaUJeet locome creeping softly toward him; no plump, soft arms to find their way slyly to his neck, their little owner laughing heartily at his vain attempts to shake them off. No; Tommy was alone. No one coaid possibly trouble him that But, notwithstanding all this, he awoke at midnight, crying bitterly. _ “What’s the matter, Tommy?” called his grandma. “I told John—to get over to his.own side—and he —wasn’t > here,” sobbed Tommy. *

“ You were dreamipg,” said grandma. And ahe got up and took the little hoy into b«r own bed, where ha slept quietly until morning. He slept, in fact, until the sua waked him up. Tommy felt like thanking the sun for coming that morning, he was so glad to see him. “ Going in town this morning, father?” inquired grandma, at the breakfast table. Well, no—Uiought I shouldn’t.” Tommy’s countenance fell. I want some cooking butter—-forgot it yesterday.’’ 1 “ James drive yon.”. Tommy brightened. “ I can go with Jamas just as well gs not," said ne, earnestly. “Yon! Oh, no! James, don’t take boys.” But dear .old grandma ..saw the tears gathering in the bright eyes, and she pitied the little fellow. “You shall go, Tommy," said she soothingly. “ Don't mind hita. If James can’t take you, I can." And so it happened that Whije Johnny was helping (?) Aunt Lois wash, the breakfast dishes, listening at the same time to a marvelous fairy tale which she was telling as she? worked, the door opened and Tommy came in. “ Well, I declare!” exclaimed the ladjr, somewhat grimly. “We didn’t eXpect Oo see yod home for a mbnth, at least—a boy who was so tired 6f his brother."

“I a’p’t.tired of him now," answered repentant Tommy, producing the wonderful cookie. Johnny laughed heartily at the queerlooking fish; but hdlaughed a great deal more to see Tbmmy hack again. “ Did you have thie sled out?”'he inquired. “ Yes—me and Sport gad Growler.” “Should think ’twas funny to coast with dogs," said Johnny, laughing again. “ Bovs are nicer. You’re a great deal nicer, John.” “Ami?” “ Yes, I a’n’t tired of you no more." “Ididn’t never get so tired of you, Tom,” replied his brother in a sweet tone of satisfaction. “ You’d better make the most of the sunshine to-day, boys," exclaimed practical Aunt Lois, “ for I’m very much mistaken if we have it to-morrow. Get that double-rHimer, Johnny, and he off with yon both. Stop half a minute, though; I want something first.” Two pairs of rosy lips, seeming to know just exactly what Auut Lois 'Wanted, became straightway irresistible. She kissed them once, twice, thrice. “GO n6w; off with you! I’llwatchyou down the hill the first time." And the boys were off.— Methodist.