Weekly Trinity journal., 1875-01-02
aa'sekly Trinity 9n.'rnal.
WeavePville, January 2, 1875.
THAT EMERSON BOY.

EhDON
That Emerson boy is dead, and there
isn't any one around that house now to
make fun. He was lively, cheerful boy
and he did his best to make the household
put on the mantle of joyfulness. Emer-
son otter remarked that Bob didn't ever
seem to sit down and think Of death and
the grave, and he probably never did.
No, Bob wasn't of that make. He
wanted to have fun, and Il the coroner
should have his body exhumed to-day, |
have no doubt that certain portions Of it
would be found caloused where the
press board used to fall. Both his ears
were nearly worn off by being cufied so
much, and it took whole row Of currant
bushes to furnish whips to dust his jacket
for one Summer.
Emerson didn't know what fun was
until Bob was eight years old. Then the
boy began to launch out. He would bore
gimlet holes in the bottom of the water
pail, put cartridges in the coal stove, un-
screw the door-knobs, fill the kerosene
lamp with water, and a good thrashing
didn't burden his mind over five minutes
Sometimes his father would take him and
yonk him up to the sofa and sit down and
ask:
Robert Parathon Emerson, what in
blazes ails YEP"
ITS the yaller jaunders, 1 guess"
Bob would meekly reply.
Robert, don't you want to be an an
gel ?" the old man would continue.
"And have wings ?"
"Yes, my son."
''And fly higher'n kite ?"
"Yes.n
"And fight hawks ?"
ayes, l guess So"
"Bet your beef l would. Whoop :
bully for the angels"
"That's sacrilege, that is" the old man
would remark, and he would jerk Bob's
hair some more and declare the young
rascal was bound for the gallows. After
lylIB ulhtl AlIc lBClI llNO AbOhh olfN llll-
utes, Bob would recover from his sadness
and 60 over the barn and run pitchtort
through the straw cutter, harness up the
COW and stick pins in the family horse.
One night he brought home wolf-trap
and set in the middle Of the wood shed
floor to catch a rat. He chucllled good
deal that evening at the thought Of what
would happen to the rats, and he fell
asleep and dreamed that he was n hand
organ and that some one stole the crank
TO him so that he couldn't be played on.
Just before going to bed old Emerson
went out after a scuttle of coal, and he
stepped his bootless foo. into that trap.
He made mighty spring and uttered a
mighty yell, and it took two men ten
minutes to spring the trap off his leg.
" It's that boys work." he groaned as
he nursed his foot and he took up the
ot-jack, limpcd into the bedroom and
gave Bob an awful clip, just as the child
was dreaming Of playing baseball with a
mermaid.
"rll pound ye to death if ye don't stop
this fooing /" cried the old man, but he
hadn't been out of the room ten minutes
before Bob was planning to stop up the
chimney next day and smoke everybody
out of the house. 1t wasn't many days
before he fixed a darning needle TO the
cushion of his fathers arm chair, and
bounced the old man three feet high, and
his licking hadn't got over smartng when
he exploded iire-craker in his mothers
snuff box. That night the old man said
as he took him by the ear:
"Robert Parathon Emerson, do you
ever think of where you will go to ?"
"Yes sir" he answered, I'm go to
bed pretty soon."
Then he got another mauling and went
to bed to dream that he was n three-tined
pitchfork and that man was using him
to load hay with.
Poor boy Even three days before he
died, and while on his death bed,
he managed to slip an eight ounce tack
into his fathers left boot and get up an
other circus. Ifhe's in heaven now, !
truly believe he'll put up some job on the
first angel that comes around him.