Richland beacon., 1873-03-29

me. | was easily satisfied. | went bach
TO my masters in a saddcned mood re
ilecting mOurnfully that being nice boy
> like any other good thing, had its draw
: backs-itS burdens, cares and response
bilitirS. What was my astOnishment anC
/ diSmay when the old man said with
: bland smile:-
We'll. William; try it again.
Please, sir. [ can't" | replied. The
old man frOwncd his darkest frown walk
: ed straight to his drawer and took out hi,
: strap.
please. sir said. '.wot are YOU q
going to do? I'll tell my father. Wot dc
you make such a nice boy as am do such
queer jobs for? WOt is the Use of bCy'.
being nice boy unless he can do as ht
pleases:'
- 'You nice boy" said the old man.
with felgned amaZement, "why, you're
the worst boy ever saw" Thereupon,
without unnecessary delay. he gave me 4
severe drubbing and sent me down stairs
to keep the other boy company. | did
not hesitate to approach the latter indi-
vidual with suggestions of Il practical na-
ture. All resentment was washed away
in the billows of our common grief.
Where's your old cannon?' said /.
coming to the point at once.
|
geance?' inquired the boy. cautiously
thrusting his hand into his pocket.
II am.' | answered with stern deter
minatiOn, well load the cannon full of
powder and stones, and tie it to a brick.
and stick it on the post outside the door,
and make fiZgig and fire it through the
window at the old man when he goes to
shut up shop
Although my companion was the happy
proprietor of the ordnance. and also en-
jOyed the ecstasy arising from the con-
sciousness that his pockets were full of
loose powder and matches. besides, vet
the brilliant operation proposed by me
never seemed to have struck him. He
was delighted with it. and we carried ont
our programme pretty fully, waiting till
5 o'clock to do so.
About that time Mr.. Macdonald's at
tention was attracted by an appearance
resembling a small volcano on the post
outside his door. That appearance was
caused by the burning of my "iiZgig.r
Hardly had the old man opened the do Dr
when tremendous explosion startled
him out of his wits, while the stones from
the cannon smashed several of his WIN
dOws. Then all was silent--all save the
huTying to and fro of startled pedestrians,
and the spasmOdic shouts of ''PO-lice,"
''pO-lice," which proceeded from the
! lungs of James Macdonald. Luckily.
Severn street was mo thOrOughfare"
street, on which there was little travel,
and so no horses were frightened.
| am sure we were glad of this, as We
walked uncOncernedlv down st. Johns
road, looking ike nice, innocent boys, as
we were. And 1 should be still more
glad if | had not the worst part of my
story to tell. But had made previous
| agreement with the other boy to receiver
the cannon. if possible. after the old mans
shop was shut up. With this important
end in view, crcpt slowly up Severn
! street, about an hour after the explosion.
| The brick and the cannon We're on the
spot. All seemed still as the grave; no
light was to be seen. But just as laid
my hand upon the cannon. heavy hand
was laid upon me, which subsequent
events proved TO be the hand of Mr.. Mac
donald. He dragged me playfully into
the house he struck me affectiOnately on
my limbs and back and face with a heavy
cane he kicked me enthusiastically "a he
dragged me up stairs !; my hands and face
We're bleeding when he thrust me into the
kitchen. The old woman was there. the
old mans strap i'm her hands. She struck
me furiously with the buckle end; my
thumb was broken; it is stiff TO This day.
They thrashed me till they were tired,
and commenced again. They went be-
yOnd all reason !; they had no mercy they
were devils, both of them. and had been
all their lives. They would have killed
me, but workman ran up stairs and in
terceded for me.
Every well,' said the old man, as |
crOuched, trembling, i'm the corner, ''we
will whip him no more tonight. but we'll
keep him here till morning, and see
whether his father will rather have him
whipped or sent to prison."
Saying which, the old man took me by
the collar and dragged me up stairs.
| Thrusting me into dismal. unfurnished
garret, he locked the door and said:-
IL hope the devil will run away with
you before morning." and left.
| Little cared | for devils or gObins then;
J boiled and fOamed with revengeful fury:
paced the floor and wrung my hands
and prayed that the building might fall;
l cursed myself because was pOwerless
to torture them to death, little by little.
| nursed my fury full two hours, when
heard a voice i'm the room below-the old
mans bedroom.
1T was foolish" said the old woman.
'Why?" inquired my MASTER.
and burn us up alive"
"Be would burn himself up, too" re-
piled my master.
perhaps not" said she 9 the scuttle is
not fastened, and he could slide down the
gutter-pipe."
. He is too great coward for that"
said the old man. and that was all heard
and all L wanted to hear. | had match.
About two hours after this conversation
occurred was walking painfully up the
st. Johns road, in the direction of Isling-
ton, when L heard the cry of Fire ~
and, turning, | saw the flames Just dart
ing through the smoke i'm the direction of
Severn street. walked onward as fast as
could, but that was slowly, turning now
and then to watch the progress of The
flames. When reached the Angel inn at
lslington looked and saw that the fire
was bright. a glorious, furious, hot
fire, and hoped that the old man and the
old woman were in it-and they were.
turned my face from the fire for the
last time, and from London forever.
When, in the morning, reached the town
of Barnet. the streets were full of the ter
rible catastrophe which had occurred the
night before-of the burning of man
and woman and boy to death.
No sympathy at all was expressed for
the old people, "because they had locked
the boy in the garrett but every heart
was bleeding with pity for the 'poor lit
tie boy" So easy il is to make mistake
suppose my friends always thought
perished as reported. Better for them to
think so than to know the truth.
III is claimed that the climate of Alaska
is steadily growing milder; that, whereas
) it was formerly impossible TO raise veget
ables of any kind there. the harder vari
!. eties are now regularly produced; and
that apple-trees transplanted from Califor
Dia five years ago, are already bearing