Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1873-06-12
&" 4 PERFECT PLAGUE"
BY ANNIE M. LIBBY.

was coming. His mother began to gaze
an4iously 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-
pcrienCc having taught her to be on the
alert for wounds, cuts and bruises. The
door flew open with a jerk, and with two
leaps Fred and big basket landed be-
side table where Lutte was mounting
autumn leaves.
See here, Lute!" exclaimed Fred,
pushing the basket on the table, hitting
The varnisll- bottle, which, in its turn, gave
the mucilage friendly push, till over
they went together.
20 Fred, you are the biggest torment [
ever saw; you spoil something every time
YOU come near me!n cried Lutte, in her
Impotence.
Ii she had seen the look that crossed
Fred's happy, handsome face, she would
nave 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,
Il guess she'll know it before | go near
her AGAIN.
20 dear!" groaned Lutte, as she picked
up the leaves, and wiped up the two little
streams of mucilage and varnish that were
slowly trickling down on the carpet, that
boy grows worse and worse! he's a per
feet plaguei"
You ought not to speak to him as you
did, Lucy" said her mother, gently. Il
think Fred was sorry, but you didn't give
him Il chance to say so.''
well, what if he was sorry? He will
DO something else just as bad in half an
hour"
Il know hes a 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
s0apbarTel, 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
light, when VIII Schofield and all the
others were up here playing croquet-I
susp0se you will think it was silly-Will
asked II | got my roses working in the
garden. Before | had time to answer,
Fred spoke up, and said, 4 guess she puts
the roses on i'll her chamber; that's why
she's SO late TO breakfast Of course, I
couldn't say anything, and | don't know
what they all thought. Then, just look at
what he's done now! and the tears trem
oled n Lute's eyes.
You're somewhat to blame for that
yourself" replied Aunt Harriet ''for YOU
know | told you to spread paper on the
table-cloth and another on the carpet I'M
der the table. AS for what he said last
night, it isn't likely VIII Schofeld motto
ed it, or, il he did, remembered it two
,rAinules. He'll outgrow such ways by
and by"
90 yes, / know you and mother always
take Fred part" sobbed Lutte II guess
if mother would tell father some Of his
tricks he would 'outgrow' some of them
pretty quick. But if father finds out any
thing il is all smoothcd over
1t was strange how, with a slight differ
ence in the subject, Fred'sthoughts were
running in the same direction as Lute's
|,She grows crosser and crosser," he
multerod, digging his toes into the chips
behind the wOod-house "and since Will
Schofeld comes up here, she don't want
me round at all. | s'pose | do plague her.
/ don't see why / have to upset everything
before l 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.
"PiaZe, marin, 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
whereof
'Shure, marin, an he stharted fur
Toompson's Pond wild half dozen boys
,o.otr
8foor"
"Thompson's Pond?" repeated his
mother, aghast "Why, his father has
<old him never to go there with the boys"
<'YOu see now Just how we'll he obeys,n
said Lutte, rather pleased with an oppor-
tunity to show her superiority in reading
Fred'S character.
20 marm," cried Bridget, putting her
head in again, "shure, there's man here
As says the boys is all kilt, and masther
Fred drowndid wild both his legs broke,
fallin out treel'
o dear, how still the house was! Fa-
Their and mother gone to find Fred and
Lutte left with Aunt Harriet and Bridget
"a get ready for their coming home What
kind OF a coming home would it be? 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 one
corner OF the hall lay the big basket that
had made so much trouble but somehow
Lutte wanted it now. AS she lifted it up,
the cover slipped one side, and two or
three bright leaves fell out. The basket
Was full
Yes" said Tommy, who found the ST
Ience very oppressive, "me and Fred's
been away over to Brickett's woods this
afternoon to get them for you. l should
ma thought he'd ha' been too tired to
go of again. I'm 'hout 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
wicked thing / am Why don't they
come? 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 fly-leaf was Freddie Randall"
in her fathers writing. She remembered
when he wrote It; they had all said it was
hard to tell which was prouder-Fred of
the new book, or the father that his only
son had advanced step in learning.
Would he ever write his boys name again?
Then there was the boys scrawl, and here
the name again in old English type, and
L. 6 Loo