The weekly Placer herald., 1853-10-01

SOLILOOUY OF A BOY.

to sing that forlorn ditty so much for; and
there's grandpa says with sigh, ssMy
dear boy, you'll never be as happy again
as you are now," and grandma looks dole
full, and chimes in "with the golden hours
of childheod!" | wonder where the gold
IS! If got penny sometimes when
was little youngSter, | thought was
well off, and ways felt very sorry after |
had spent it-that is, after the cakes were
all gone. and then somebody was always
ready with, "Why, my dear boy, you
can't eat your cent and keep it too.''--
Wei i know that now, but there's some
thing don't know, and that is, where all
this great pleasure is in being boy.
When | was five years old, and Iust be-
gun to enjoy something, must be bun
died off 10 school, and sit on high bench
aud no cricket; had to say till every
thing ! ooked upon, even my mothers
face, seemed one big \, and TO crown the
whole, was Ounce, for u took me three
weeks to get on Is, and good dea lon
ger learning to G through the alphabet.
And when | was Older, had the satSfac-
ton of being called "a great awkward
boy" even by mother, and when | would
try 10 do my best, | was invariably laugh
ed at If in coming INTO the room, hap
pened to upset ha a dozen chars, ii tit
ter was raised, and "Ob! he's boy %
considered sufficient apology. If | played
with the ba y was sure to make it cry,
and the nurse would look ali around to
SET If had pinched it; boys, she said,
were always full of such tricks.
Wo he to the boy where there is IL
household Of girls; why have known my
all of frIf.t H.. nd lob
-that's Invariably got the blame And
Mary, put up this clothes line; John, you
are IA great boy, and you must learn to
work; ust 30 down to the cellar and split
the wood; John, run up to the garret and
bring down squash or two; John, run
out to the wood house and get some kim
ding" and on damp days the girls inva
riably held jubilee, aud poor John was
IA slave.
The fact is, don't believe but what it
would do the girls good, if they learned
to go out in the wet weather rs wei as
the boys. But they 're always crying out,
"thin Shoes" and "wet feet" and if ask
them why they don't wear thick shoes as
do, they only laugh at me and answer,
that such clumsy things are well enough
for boys.
often tell them no wonder they get
cold, with nothing but a bit of lace over
their shoulders, and piece of gauze on
their arms 1t seems SO funny, too, to call
boys harder than girls. Why! if tho't
so-thin sacks, thin slippers, bare arms,
and bare necks, shouldn't live Il month.
Hardy hey're the hardest mortas alive,
for they do stand such treatment some
way, though they're mighty delicate and
seem to be proud OF it; III fact, think Il
good many of them had rather have a
fashionable consumption, than vulgar,
good constitution.
| wonder how ong boy is boy
there's my sister Louisa come home from
boarding school ''finished," as they call it,
at sixteen, whi e i've got to study three
years louger, to know as much as she
does-that Is, provided she's got her edu-
cation, and am past 49, Louisa is going
to be married next week-who pretendS
to call her girl? Nobody. Its an ISIS
Louisa ,ands, that young iady," of her,
and its 'my dear boy" by mother, and
''we must overlook the freaks Of boy,"
by father-and that's the way they talk to
me and of me-me, John sands that's
next to the head of the family.
Sisters can do anything they please,
even to wearing false hair and every other
false fixing, and nobody says a word; but
the first time put OF IA dckey, it was al
most as much as my life was worth to
meet with the family. thought | could
bear it like hero, but the s'oh's" and the
"ah's!" the pull ,ng the points up over my
cheeks, the mock sa utatlDns to- Mr. Sands,
the dersve laughter was more than was
prepared for, and actually ran from the
house, while all the girls shouted after
me, s'good bye, Mr.. Sands, take care of
that new dirkey."
brought home a nice razor box the
day was l8, and for safe-keeping, hid it
in the garret between the ratters. Vain
precaution! When got home, box,
brushes, strops, powder, and razor, were
all paraded upon the table, and little
scrap of paper pinned on the wall, OH
which was written, "Johnny dear, be care
fni, little boys should not play with edge
tOols;" and all that my sisters couid sing
that day, was GA frog he won d ii woong
go"
Never was so angry in my life, but
bore it like a philosopher, only it did try
me, when of mornings fondly thought
myse unobserved, to hear gigglng
outside the door, and my little six years
old sister lisp, instigated by older and
more wicked sprits, "Johnny, here's puss
wants to be shaved"
And SO i: is in everything; il seems
| L l.