Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1873-05-30
"a PERFECT PLAGUE"
BY ANNIE NJ. LIBBY.


clump, clumpl Everybody knew Fred
was coming. His mother began to gaze
anxiously toward the door, trying to inn
agine in what plight her boy would enter.
Aunt Harriet dropped her work, ready to
run for rags, strings, or plasters, long eX-
perience having taught her TO be on the
alert for wounds, cuts and bruises. The
door flew open with jerk, and with two
leaps Fred and big basket landed be-
autumn leaves.
"See here, Lute" exclaimed Fred,
pushing the basket on the table, hitting
the varnsh- bottle, which, in its turn, gave
the mucilage friendly push, till over
they went together.
30 Fred, you are the biggest torment l
ever saw; you spoil something every time
you come near mel cried Lutte, in her
impatienee.
If she had seen the look that crossed
Fred's happy, handsome face, she would
have been sorry for the thoughtless words;
but she didn't look up. The hurt, sorry
look changed to a hard, defiant one as it
settled in his bright blue eyes, and he
took up the basket to go out, muttering,
81 guess she'll know it before l go near
her againH
80 dearl' groaned Lutte, as she picked
up the leaves, and wiped up the two little
streams of mucilage and varnish that were
slowly trickliHg down on the carpet, "that
boy grows worse and worse! he's a per-
feet plague"
"You ought not to speak to him as you
did, Lucy" said her mother gently. 81
think Fred was sorry, but you didn't give
him chance to say So"
"Well, what if he was sorry? He will
do something else just as bad in half an
hour"
II know he's little rough" her mother
went on, "but he doesn't mean any harm"
"Now, mother, how can you say so?
Only last week he threw the cat into the
soap-barrel, and he must climb that young
ash after his cap, and knock off my hang
ing basket and break it, He could have
taken ladder, and not gone on the side
of the tree where the basket hung. After
he got his cap, instead of putting it on he
threw it at the cat, and broke the hand
soonest dahlia in the garden. Then, last
night, when Will Schofield and all the
others were up here playing croquet-I
suspose you will think it was silly-Will
asked if l got my roses working in the
garden. Before had time to answer,
Fred spoke up, and said, 4 guess she puts
the roses on in her chamber; that's why
she's so late to breakfast OF course,
couldn't say anything, and don't know
Mndl tllSl ali lnOuShl. nGl, just lOOh Ut
what he's done now and the tears trem-
bled in Lute's eyes.
you're somewhat to blame for that
yourself" replied Aunt Harriet, 'for you
know l told you to spread a paper on the
tabe-cloth and another on the carpet un-
der the table. As for what he said last
night, it isn't likely Will Schofield MOTTO
ed it, or, if he did, remembered it two
minutes. He'll outgrow such ways by
and by"
80 yes, know you and mother always
take Fred's part, " sobbed Lutte 81 guess
if mother would tell father some of his
tricks he weuld 'outgrow' some of them
pretty quick. But if father finds out any
thing it is all smoothcd over"
1t was strange how, with slight differ
ence in the subject, Fred's thoughts were
running in the same direction as Lute's.
"She grows crosser and crosser," he
muttered, digging his toes into the chips
behind the wood-house, "and since VIII
Schofield comes up here, she don't want
me round at all. l s'pose do plague her.
don't see why have to upset everything
before fairly get near it." And the boy
actually sat with his cap over his eyes full
three minutes resolving he would be very
careful next time.
"PlaZe, marQ, can masther Frid go to
the sthore fur me?" asked Bridget, putting
her head in at the door, an hour later.
Certainly" said Mrs. Randall
"An' is he not back yit?"
"Why, isn't he about the house some
where?"
"Shure marm, an he stharted fur
Toompson's Pond wild half a dozen boys
an hour agone, but l thought he was back
afoor"
"Thompson's Pond?" repeated his
rnnthar sanbact NNVhu hio 70 Ia
told him never to go there with the boysp'
"You see now just how well he obeys,"
said Lutte, rather pleased with an oppor-
tunity to show her superiority in reading
Fred's character.
so marm," cried Bridget, putting her
head in again, "shure, there's a man here
as says the boys is all kilt, and masther
Fred drowndid wild both his legs broke,
fallin' out a treel"
o dear! how still the house was Fa-
ther and mother gone to find Fred, and
Lutte left with Aunt Harriet and Bridget
to get ready for their coming home. What
kind of coming home would it be9 They
didn't dare think. Tommy Witham a
sort of Jobs comforter, came in, and fol
lowed Lutte as she went restlessly about
the house trying TO do something. In enc
corner of the hall lay the big basket that
had made so much trouble, but somehow
Lutte wanted it now. As she lifted il up,
the cover slipped one side, and two or
three bright leaves fell out The basket
was full. sH4
EYES," said Tommy, who found the ST.
lence very oppressive, "me and Fred's
been away over to Brickett's woods this
afternoon to get them for you. l should
ha' thought he'd ha' been too tired to
go off again. I'm bout used up" A
manly expression Tommy was fond of
using.
"And he was going TO give them to me
when drove him off," thought Lutte,
with sharp pang. "What a
Gomez He must be-" No, she couldn't
bring herself to speak the word; and,
catching up Fred's geography, she turned
the leaves from sheer necessity of doing
something.
On the tlyleaf was "Freddie Randall" /"
in her fathers writing. She remembered
when he wrote It; they had all said IL was
hard to tell which was prouder-Fred of
the new book, or the father that his only
son had advanced a step in learning.
Would be ever write his boys name again ?
Then there was the boys scrawl, and here
the name again In old English type, and
on another leaf strange looking birds with
banners In their beaks, bearing that name
SO precious now. And now his favorite
picture of a prancing horse How hard
be worked over that with dirty fingers,