The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1873-10-17
Revenge and its Consequences.

Coville's boy was at the velocipede
rink, Friday night. 1t was not his in
tention in going there to ride a veloci-
pede. He went up there to whip a boy
who put some chewing gum where he
sat down on it in school, and owing to
language he used on the occasion was
prevented from leaving the building in
time to make the proper connection with
the criminal. He found the boy there,
as he expected, and, doubling up his fist
protruded in very alarming manner, he
approached the young man with view
of giving him "blazes," as he subse-
quently confided to the opponent him
self, when, alas! for human expectations
the willy foe brought out top with a
brass peg, and generously offered it to
his adversary. The look of fire in CO.
ville's boys eye died completely out, the
rigid muscles of the fist relaxed, and
the next minute the top was in his own
pocket, with the ferocious fist closed
over it, instead of banging up the frame
of the other boy. After few minutes
of desultory conversation in which not
the remotest reference was made to the
late npleasantness, two of the veloci-
pedes were vacated, and at the invita-
ton of the other boy, Coville's boy
mounted one of them for display of
his agility. The other boy could ride,
but this was Coville's boys first exper-
iment. At first he fell mostly on his
side, but after awhile he grew more
acquainted with the vagaries of the ma
chine, and commenced to strike on the
top of his head, thus saving his clothes
and shielding the machine. Getting
tired of the monotony, and becoming a
tritie uneasy on account of its frequency,
he finally dashed out on the track, spun
part ways around, commenced to waver
on three other machines, bore down
upon his rear, and lost his balance Just
as they reached him, and went down on
his nose, thus forming the corner stone
to a remarkable mass of mixed veloci-
pedes, legs, and shrieks. The other
boys were helped up at once by the
keeper, who took Coville's boy by the
ear, under the impression that he was
the malicious source of all the trouble,
and waltzed him out to the street. Any
other boy would have gone straight
home, and had himself done up in cot
ton and sweet oil, but Colville's boy was
not made of such stuff. He painted for
revenge. When the keeper let go of
him, he went around to back street
and tore picket from fence, and re-
turned to the entrance of the rink where
he patiently waited for the keeper to
appear, that he might kill him with the
picket. He didn't care how long he had
to wait. An uncle was visiting at the
house, and his father wouldn't dare
whip him while there was company
around. Pretty soon he heard steps
descending down the stairs, and peeking
through the crack of the door he saw
the keeper approach. He waited with
the stick drawn until the shadow crossed
the threshold, and then lunged fright
full blow at the victims stomach, hit the
mark and fled. A half hour later, while
lying rejoicing in bed, his father dashed
into the room and, picking him up
by his hair, stood him on the floor, and
silently but vigorously warmed his legs
with what the miserable boy, from the
meager opportunity he had of observing
the weapon, was confident was the
identical picket which short time ago
flourished in his own possession. But
the elder Coville made no explanation.
Late the next day, Mrs. Coville found
opportunity to explain to him that his
uncle had gone out to hunt him up for
some ice cream, and had strolled into
the rink where, learning that he had just
gone home, was retracing his way when
he was murderously assaulted by his
own nephew, and nearly knocked into
eternity. NetCs.