The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1873-08-26
A STORY FOR PARENTS.
ssDOB MOVES, do stop your racket.
lD Nobody can have minutes peace


driven. He turned the toy wagon he had
been working at over and over, with a
wistful look which told of pitiful heart
ache. 1t was pretty wagon in his eyes,
and he had made every bit of it himself,
and if he could only drive six more nails it
would be finished. But there must be no
racket, SO he laid it away carefully, and
going to one corner of the yard stretched
himself under tree, and kicking the turf
with his heels, pondered over his many
troubles. His mother had said there was
no peace with him anywhere about home.
He had slipped into the parlor after din
ner, and was having good chat with Miss
Somers, and she was telling him about
three wonderful black and white spotted
puppies at her house, when sister Jennie
came in and asked him what he was i'm
posing ON Miss Somers for. He wasn't
imposing, Miss Somers said so. Guess he
could talk as we'll as Jennie, if she was
eighteen two months ago. But Jennie
made him leave the room without learning
how the littlest and prettiest puppy got
out of the cistern when he fell in. Maybe
he didn't get out. Bob kicked harder, and
wished he knew. After his election from
the parlor, Bob started for the garret to
console himself by rocking in the old-fash-
ioned red cradle grandmother Noyes rocked
papa and Uncle John in, but Nell and the
ting up surprise tableaux, and didn't want
any little pitchers around. He next
sought his fathers study, to look at an
illustrated edition of natural history. But
papa objected-he couldn't have Bob in
there making a disturbance. Almost
broken-hearted, he turned to his mothers
room. eco right away, Bob, you'll wake
the baby" met him at the threshold He
looked into the kitchen, and begged to
help mako pies but Bridget told him to
clear out" He "cleared out" to the
wood-house and sought to assuage his
sorrow by working on his wagon, and now
he was forbidden that.
He could not understand why he was
driven from everything-he had not been
bad boy and lost his temper. 1t was be-
yond his six-year-old philosophy. His
poor little brain puzzled over what other
children called certain inalienable rights"
without finding solution of his troubles
of coming to q conclusion. Had he been
strong minded, he might have called a
convention, and declared Gin the present
order of things little boys have no rights
big folks are bound to respect" and draft
ed petitions for q change but he was sem
sitive and submissive, and let people snub
and trample on his toes without remon-
STRANGE.
The tea-bell reused him from his cup of
bitter, puzzled thoughts.
"Bob, come to supper"
He wouldn't have to wait, that was some
consolation.
At the table Mrs. Noyes was telling Miss
Somers about a troupe of performing mon
keys. "One smart monkey with striped
tail played on the violin, and"
Mamma, it was ring-tailed," inter-
rupted Bob, eager to have the account
exact.
"Bob, how many times have told you
not to interrupt? ?'
Bob subsided, but he knew it was ring
tailed, for he counted the rings and watch
ed it for half an hour, while mamma gos-
siped with Mrs. Layton.
GAN the monkeys turned somersauts
when their keeper played Captain Jinks,"
continued Mrs. Noyes. zoe fl
T" Mamma, it wasn't Captain Jinks,yit
was o ware is My little Tog.'"
Bob was correct, and he knew it he
could whistle like mocking bird, while
Mrs. Noyes did not know one tune from
another. The two reproofs in presence of
Miss Somers was too much for his sensitive
bashful temperament, and mortified him
beyond self-control. His little fingers
trembled and dropped a glass of water
spilling the contents upon the cloth.
"Bob, where's your manners Leave
the table," commanded the father
The children laughed, and Jennie called
Bob an ill-mannered little boor, and the
mortified little fellow crept sadly into bed
and sobbed until asleep.
The days experience was fair sample
of Bob's whole boyhood. Nowhere about
home could his light shine freely; the whole
household tried to thrust it under a bushel
He must not sing, whistle, shout, talk, ask
questions or pound; yet he must have him
self handy to run erands and pick up
chips. He must not have company, '1ittle
boys are TO be seen, not heard = he must
not have any company of his own, because