The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-07-22
Gelefte0.
From the Friend Of Youth.
The Selfish and Unselfsh Boy
BIZ MARY IRVING.


+" Please, brother Phil =" Thus i'm
plored little boy, who was standing be-
hind the chair of larger one, on freez-
ling evening of November.
CT can't please now, and l won'i
please So there, do you hear 7" ex.
claimed the older, surlily turning round
in the great arm chair, in which he had
seated himself to read the weekly news
paper. "Get off my rocker, there, OF
look out for your toes. l wish little
boys wouldn't be always bothering one
when ones busy"
George, the little boy at whom this
outburst of passion was aimed, slunk
away, looking sadly disappointed. He
was slender little fellow, about seven
years old, with pale blue eyes, and light
brown curls arching over white fore.
head. The big veins in his throat
swelled as he tried to swallow his tribu-
lation, and his eye-lids winked fercely
over two gathering hot-drops, which
Philip had taught him to consider q
disgrace to his little manliness.
CT think Phil might be bit clever |!
He knows how bad L want my sled, "
he said to himself; and suddenly one of
the tear-drops, that had swelled too
round for his eye to contain, fell down
on the white ruffie of his checked blue
apron. He brushed it away very quick
ly, and, With glance at his dreaded
brother, sidled back into the shade OF
the newspaper.
His little cousin, Henrietta, just then
came skipping into the room, and turn
ed the tide of his thoughts.
ooh, George, only see what I've
got !" She held over her head fried
nut-cake, cut into something intended
for the image of hand, while she went
on dancing, first on one foot and then on
the other.
+" Shut the door, young ones J" growl-
ed master Philip, scowling behind the
paper. "I should like to know what
sent you romping in here. Clear out,
can't you and let me have moments
peace of my life.
The little girl tripped out, and George
followed her, asking
"Oh, Eta, who gave you that hand
cake ?"
"Sally, to be sure. She's frying
down in the kitchen, and she has whole
pan full. Let's coax her to give you
lone."
Down they went into the kitchen,
where they found the frying pan kissing
over red-hot stove, filing all the air
with a sort of savory fog. The cook
maid, with her great ladle, was bending
over "bubbling fat, watching the diving
and browning nuts. She lifted her
scorched face as she heard the children's
feet on the stairs.
"Didn't I tell you to let alone
troubling me, Miss Eta : What are
you diving down here for, to grease your
pink gown agen the kettles :"
"George wants you to fry hand fol
him, just like mine," she exclaimed
lodging out of the way Of the sputteriug
fat-drops, while the girl was lifting the
kettle off the stove.
"Well, we'll, you must keep out oi
this hole, then. Kitchens isn't boys
place. 1 shan't give you but one SC
be off,"
She tossed hot cake into Georges
hands. He caught it, and ran up stairs
with it, shifting it from one hand to the
other, as he went, as he found it un-
comfortably warm. Eta accompanied
him into the play-room, where he laid
his cake on a window sill to cool, and
proceeded to tell her his various difficult.
ties. @
"Eita," said he, " it seems to me,
trouble everybody to-day. Father said
so this morning, when asked him for q
sled-rope; mother said so when I car.
ried her my red mitten, with a hole in
the thumb Phil keeps saying so; and
now Sally! l wonder what makes me
such trouble"
Eta laughed. "It's funny, Geor-
|gie. You don't trouble me, though :"
"I wish Phil wouldn't be so troubled
tonight, because he did promise to paint
an eagle on my sled and put on the
irons, SO that / could have it tomorrow
afternoon. It's going to be rare slid