Litchfield enquirer., 1876-06-29

and plotting new ones Oh, it is rare fun to be boy on such evenings as this Tn a village where policemen are unknown Mr. Phelps was reading his paper be- fore the cheerful grate fire which the cool evenings yet made comfortable. Mrs. Phelpsswas sitting opposite, her chubby person comfortably filling an easy chair. her small gaiters resting on the fender. 1 and serving her eyes p0iuts q Gpoui for 1 complacent revery. Kate could be seen through the open door fitting about the table in preparations for tea. Reginald stood looking out at the window, absent ly drumming with his fingers on the pane. At this moment there was ring at the door, scuae in the hall. and an instant later Tot came running into the parlor, crying out with much agitation and i'm mense eyes:
 "Oh. papa, Will has got him, and it's Freddy Patterson. and. oh I'm afraid he's hurting him." and with this she be- gan to whimper.
 "What on earth ails the child ?" ex- claimed her father. "What IS she talking about ?"
 "lt's those everlasting boys at the bell again hope Bill will shake him well, |" answered Reginald
 "Bless me had forgotten all about it, " said MT. Phelps. jumping up "He must bring him right in. D
 "Now, George, don't do anything dread full, protested Mrs. Phelps. They're coming now," said Reginald; at which Mir. Phelps took his seat again and resumed his paper. A moment after, Bill hustled little fellow about twelve years old into thep par r Tor hu ho ci,o md Ckoo1 iy, tho door barring his escape He was bright, sturdy, spirited-looking lad, as, painting from the resistance he had made to his captor, he stood lingering his cap, and looking crest fallen, frightened, and yet half defiant 1t is the very same little imp who was playing those pranks on the street moment ago. He has played one too 3many). Tot stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, staring at him, ex- pecting something tragical, and ready to cry. Kate peered into the room over Bills shoulder as he stood in the door, to see what was the matter. Reginald was nonchalantly looking on. Mrs. Phelps's motherly heart at once warmed toward the pretty little rogue, and she turned to her husband, ready to intercede.. But there was no need. Bill began:
 Here's the little" but his father, without giving him chance to finish his speech, put down his paper with an air of smiling patronage, and welcomed the small prisoner with the words:
 ''Why, Freddy how do you do? Glad to see you. It's good of you to make usa call. Sit down, my boy"
 The little chap was more put out by this mode of address thpn if he had been trounced. He looked wild. Mrs. Phelps and Kate took the cue at once. The form CT asked him how his mamma was, and Kate took his cap and got him into a char ill the middle of the room, sitting in which his feet barely touched the ground an attitude which completed his embar- rassment. - .
 "Let's see. Do you go to school now, Freddy ?" asked Mrs. Phelps. with an ap- pearance of interest.
 "Yes ma 'am," he replied, in frighten- ed whimper.
 "Who is your teacher ?'' she asked.
 ''Miss Smith, sir-I mean ma 'am."
 ''What do you study, Freddy" asked Kate
 Palmetto, jogrify. an readin'. he an- swered, falling into the school-boy sing song:
 "Do you like to go to school ?" asked Mrs. Phelps.
 Pretty we'll, thank you, sir.
 And then they asked him what he liked best of the studies, and whether he liked his teacher, how old he was, and a great many more questions of that class, and all with an air of so much affability and interest, he became entirely bewildered. Did they know or don't they? Were they fooled, or were they fooling h1m? Boy nature has very little faculty for adapting itself to false position, and he kept get ing redder and redder. ss Finally, summoning up all his resolu- tion, he slid off his chair. and mumbled out that he guessed he must go home.
 Must you go so soon? I'm so sorry!' said Mrs. Phelps graciously. "You have made ns ever so nice call r
 He stood moment, getting very red, and then hlurted out indistinctly:
 ''Mr Phelps, I rang your bell for fun, but I'm sorry," and with that he slid out of the room.
 II fancy he won't trouble us again, said Reginald. ''If that's what you call coals of fire, it is tolerably effective treat ment"
 1T suppose it's called coals of fire be- cause 1t sorches ones cheeks. thought he would burn up,'' said Kate.
 ''Pm afraid it wasn't exactly coals of fire in. the Apostles sense," said Mrs. Phelps, ''for Freddy thought we misun- derstood him all the while."
 ''It was a much more effective kind than the Apostles for that very reason"
 ''Why. Reginald P said his mother, for it was he who had spoken.
 There's no,'why Reginald about it, answered he. "When you act as If you didn't know person had intended to harm you and do kindness to him, it makes him five times as ashamed as if he thought you knew what he had intended, and were being good in order to shame him."
 1.-The boys right enough there," re- marked his father. ''In fact, for my part think nothing is more impertinent than being good in an ostentatious way to your enemies. Returning good for evil is fine when you don't seem to know you are ,do- ing it, but that Is the only thing that ex- cjlses it, either as point of manners or morals, for believe coals of fire are cap- able of being used as extensively as any canal weapons. I have often answered an ugly speech in sharper tone than I oth erwise would, because thought should less anger somebody that way, than by assuming to be better than he. ''
 'Oh. by the way. what was that joke between mother and you last night ?" ask ed Bill. lounging on the sofa.
 q s'Oh, yes, to be sure; you know you sad you would tell us, said Kate, ''and now Reginald is at.home, it would be a good time. Please, do!
 Would you tell them, Ada ?"
 T suppose they will not give us any rest till,we do. !" Mrs Phelps replied. with smile of resignation.
 ''f you really don't want to tell us, I wonldn't said Reginald
 ''Why. no; of course P said Kate. .'.I .dldnt mean to tease
 'Oh, 1t isn't so serious matter as all that, remarked Mir. Phelps. ''It's no se- cret, really. II don't believe in secrets. The only really secret things about people are the things they don t know themselves. We needn't be afraid of telling too much about ourselves, if we only tell all we know, for that's mighty little, and gener- ally mistaken at that