Bedford inquirer. [volume] (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, 1865-05-19

e
81 don know" said Tommy, with his
finger in his mouth.
II know, said Pet, aptly reyenging her
self for the hit at her rdimunitiYe proportions
Tommy dropped them out of the win
dow.
Tommy is bad boy, said the vexed
pater-familias, crawling under the bed for
sundry little stockings that had been thrown
there, apparently, as balls. "Where are
the clothes p
In the bureau, answered the child.
s'But where
81 don't know.
Crash went a fancy bottle of cologne off
the table, as Tommy CROPPED for his elastic
garters, and bang fell Mrs. Caryers rose
wood writing desk to the floor, bursting off
the frail hinges, and scattering pens, enve-
lopes and postage stamps far and wide
Pet pounced upon the ruins like avulture on
the battlefield, while Tommy burst into a
] loud wall.
| Mr.. Peter Carver was an affectionate faith
| er in a general way, but human nature could
not endure all this He promptly gave his
adhesion to Solomon wisdom by admins
| tering brisk personal chastisement. Tom
roared, and Pet joined In with treble scream
| Of sympathy.
Il never saw such children in my life p
said the chagrined parent. ''It would take
one persons whole time to keep them out of
mischief"
And he bundled the two little creatures
miscellaneously into whatever articles came
uppermost, rending off strings and fracturing
button-holes in frantic desperation.
''There Now, see if you can behave
yourselves while | get breakfast
tsDapo > sr1ua1Iad Voro,,,,- Et,,o,, have
buttoned my frock in front instead of be-
hind, and Pet has not had herface washed
Il can't attend to you now said Mr.
Carver, banging the door with a sigh of re-
lief 'Children are great trial; | never
realized it before.
The kitchen range looked black and cheer
less enough as he stood staring helplessly at
it.
Il dom know much about making fire,
he pondered but / suppose newspaper
and lot of kindling are about the right
thing, with few shovelfuls of coal on top.
Bless me there nothing you can t reduce
to theory"
But the fire obstinately refused to burn,
setting theoretical perfection utterly at de-
fance, although Mr.. Carver opened the oy-
en- doors alternately, and drew out all the
hampers he could spy"
''Confound ssthe firel'' said Mr. Carver,
wiping his wet forehead with the stove-cloth
it won't go. I'll have blaze of kindling,
and fry the breakfast on that
He seized an oleaginious ham, carving
several thick sliceswhich he transferred deft-
ly to gridiron, and then, elated with his
success, broke several eggs over the ham.
''Bless me, how they runl he calculated
rather puzzled But know I'am, right
because if the eggs don cook on the ham
how the deuce do they come there | Won
der why this coffee don boil III stick In
a few more kindlings-that the idea
There are the children crying up stairs
hungry, | suppose. / do believe they do
nothing but eat and cry. Here-Pet, Tom
my-come here, and LII give you some bread
and molasses. .
While the little creatures were gradually
becoming hopelessly sticky and begrlmed on
the kitchen floor, Mr.. Carver rushed to
attend the peremptory summons OF the milk
man.
''How much milk | don't know-a
quart suppose. Fine morning, Mrs. Gray
he said bowling chivalrously to a lady who
was tripping down the street, and adding,
soto voice, "but [ don't see anything to
laugh at in the remark. Some women are
always giggling..
Papa, said Pet, innocently looking up,
''your nose is all black with charcoal. .
.'You look so funny, papa, said Tommy
with that big towel pinned round you.
| 4 FMr. Carver turned scarlet-this was the
mysteryof Mrs. Grey uncomfortable amuse-
ment.
"a man can't cook and keep himself
clean, said he pettishly.
Then he remembered with remorseful
pang, how white Carry's collars and cuffs
always were, and how spotless and pure her
morning wrappers invariably looked. And
he sat down, tired and spiritless, to repast
of half cooked meat and liquid mud, by
courtesy termed coffee.
"Stuff, he calculated, throwing the ,cof-
! fee spitefully into the sink. = wonder how
| Garry did it L m sure it seemed easy enough.
Now, suppose | have got to wash these
dishes"
Helooked despairingly around at the chaos
that reigued in the kitchen.
''Nine o'clock, as | live-and nothing
done. We'll, | see very plainly there's no
office for me to-day. Now, then, what is
wanting? ?"
'gThe clothes for the wash, please, sir 2 ,
said a little girl courtesying humbly at the
door.
"Up stairs and down stains, and in my la
dv's chamber went Peter Carver, laying
hands on whatever he considered proper prey
for the wash-tub, rummaging in bureau
drawers, upheaying the contents of trunks,
and turning wardrobes inside out for a NOR
tai hour before he had completed the requl-
site search. The kitchen was empty when
he returned.
'eWhere are the children p was his first
alarmed thought, expressing himself uncon-
sciously in words.
II saw them go out of the door, please,
sir, said the little girl.
''Was it long ago y
'sNo sir-not very it might be fifteen
minutes,
Peter rent off the towel wherewith he
had girdled himself, and set off hot haste
after the missing ones. The July sun was
beginning to glow intensely in the heavens,
the pavements reflected the ardent shine
with tenfold heat and poor Peter Carver
was nearly melted into nothingness ere he
espied, in the train of hand-organ and
monkey, his hopeful son and heir, with Pet
following, both nearly unrecognizable from
dust, perspiration and molasses.
Come home, this instant, you little
wretches r. calculated Peter, quite forget
ting in his rage the emolument precepts in
culcated as the parents guide, and lavishinl
shower Of not very caressing words on hi
offspring, as he promptly arrested them.
Neither of them would walk-in fact, the
little wanderers were far too weary. So Mr.
Carver mounted one on each arm and car
ried them, timber and unresisting, through