Lewistown gazette. [volume] (Lewistown, Pa.) 1843-1944, 1867-06-05
Wednesday, June 5, 1867.

Why must the great hall clock be
= wound, and what does the pendulum
b. do?
Then comes the time when no alarm
is sounded by our faithful time piece,
to waken the servants, and we all sleep
on until the sun is so high that we
wake and dress in haste, and cannot
catch the lost hours through the day.
OF course, II search reveals the pendu-
lum under Tommy's bed.
We should give our number as seven
to the census collector, but so much
mischief is done in the house, to which
no one will confess, that we have to
lay it at the door of an imaginary foe,
whom VIC style Number Eight |
begin TO learn, however, that Number
Eight is usually another name tor
Master Tommy. He is riddle, and
we've few rules by which TO read him;
only sure that be will appear when.
ever we had least expected, discover
all that we would keep from him, and
speak whenever he had best be silent
lie despises sham, and has no conceal
ments
Don't my muvver look putty, wifi
her hair curled that way? he asks at
dinner party. we fought she'd be
the beauliullest woman here n so she
is Then later-I knOwed ther wor
cum'n cumin', coz Jane brang out all
The silver, n the pantry door was lock,
sos | couldn't git in. Some silver amt
silver its plated; I've sawn 'em do it;
IT'S as easy, n you can't tell 'em apart,
D L don't know as any of ourn's real
What makes yer look at me SO for.
Helun ? lie asks when | try to check
him. Il amt er sayin' muffin. didn't
tell 'em you tared yer gown runnin'
down stairs, n didn't have time ter
change it,
Mother says she would never allow
the child to see guests, but that he must
learn good manners.
ASK the little girl to come again to
see you, my son; she is dear little
playmate, isn't she 2 said mother, be-
fore we had learned how like leaning
upon broken reed is trusting to Toms
/ politeness
No num-, answered he, stoutly;
shed berhave herseffie poorly; L IN real
disgusting ut her; n I'd ruthcr 90 and
see her, COZ she's got ripe peacher t
1 her house
Tommy, dear, this is Mr. Goodhue;
he has two little boys at home
Yes, Tom answers, gravely; I've
sawn 'em; they sit befront us ut church,
n tumble off crickets, prayer time
You said once they needed a severe
whippin'.'
In the country, at Grandma Will
sons, Tom is even worse than at home.
We find him on high, solitary beams
in the barn, with no visible means of
getting down; he is caught in the
Doughs of trees; he is rolling off the
wood-shed roof he is tumbling into
the river; he is pulled about the pig.
sty, firm J grasping some stout squaIl-
er's tail; he is poking sticks at the
fierce Hatch dog; continually in danger,
yet never really hurt.
wonder if Toms guardian angel
ever feels tired or perplexed?
There stood by grandma's door,
when Tommy was there last, large
molasses casti, just drained Of its con.
tents, with the exception Of an inch or
two Of what We children call molasses
sugar. The ground in the rear slopes
gently for several feet down to the
river
One day, Maxwell and Sydney were
wrestling, leaping, and racing about,
when they suddenly knocked the cask
over and sent it rolling down the hill
Catch it, Sgd! shouted Max, twill
be floating down the stream in min
ute but of course Sydney could not
! catch it, after it was fairly set in mo
ton.
1t rolled faster and faster, but Just
as it reached the river, it struck "a
willow bough and was suddenly brought
upright once moro, just on the waters |
brink
We all ran down to the rescue, and |
what should we find peeping out OF
the cask but two we'll known tiny
boots.
why, Tommy we said, not know.
ing whether to laugh or cry, ARE you
hurt darling?'
Oh said a smothered voice, d then
amt drowned, nor sailin' out ter sea.
I'll be took out, all 'cept my curls, n
they won't come. I've tried 'em, n
they stick fast
Tommy came out, curls and all, safe
and sound, as usual; but he did look
funny, with crown of damp sugar on
his head and great streaks of molasses
on his face
Were not you frightened, Tom
Thumb? ? | asked, as led him to the
house.
'Pher! No. L thought Is goin' out
ter sea, n | wisht / weren't on my
head, coz couldn't sec tho whales, n
Ingy,'n Uncle John; but was SO shook.
n my curls pulled the tears inter my
eyes when | tried ter turn over
We had an uncle at Calcutta, and
Tommy thinks going to sea is going to
him.
One night at grandma's, when Tom
my was very tired, he refused at bed
time to say his prayers, declaring he
had been SO good he had muffin to pray