Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1876-02-04
KIM,s LAST WHIPPING.
BIZ SOPHIE NAT.

u
sand bank all winter, waiting for
strong north wind to blow it over.
Say, what will you sell that schoo
house for? asked a traveller of littl
boy, who stood one moment on tb'
rickety doorstep.
For bunch of matches, answered
the little boy, as quick as thought.
The man laughed and rode on
The boy was Kimball Price, tht
rogue of the town of Skoodac, Dis
trict Number Three, and the try-pa
thence of all his teachers. He was 8
handsome lad, ten years old. / dc
not mean that he was always ten, but
that was his age when Miss Pente-
cost whipped him, and there is where
our story begins.
Now, Miss Pentecost taught the
school that summer at District No.
Three. She liked Kim-everybody
liked him; but that was no reason
why he should be allowed to tie the
girls together by the hair-they wore
long braids in those days-or fire
paper balls, or eat choke-cherries, OF
stick pins in the benches to make A
B G scholars cry "C!" when they
were not saying their letters. Miss
Pentecost never winked at naughti-
ness, and as whiPpings were fash
ionable at that period, she whip
ped Kim regularly three times a
week. 1t was considered the most
direct way of reaching the con-
science.
But Kim could never remember a
whipping more than a day and a
half, or at the longest, three days
and Miss Penteeost began to grow
discouraged. Must Kim always go
on doing mischief, and neglecting his
lessons-a boy who could learn so
well if he chose?
She knew his mother poor wild
ow, with large family Of, children,
and she was sure Mrs. Price could
not afford to send Kim to school to
merely play.
What can / say or do to make an
impression on that child? thought
Miss Pentecost, one day, as she tied
the strings of her gingham "log-cab-
in" under her chin, and stepped out
of the school-house.
Just then she caught these words,
spoken by Kim with energy, and a
flourish of fists:
Tell you it's true, Bob Whiting,
for mother said so; and if mother
says it's so, it's SO, if it amt so!
Miss Pentecost laughed all to her.
sell, f,and passed on through the sand
bank into the dusty road. When she
had gone as far as the big willow,
she paused a little and laughed
again.
l like to hear a boy talk so about
his mother, even if it is nonsense
Kim is an affectionate little fellow,
and shouldn't wonder if he is a
good son. Any way, Pve got an idea,
and l mean to try it, and see how it
will work.
Next day was the time for one of
Kim's regular whippings. He bad
been more trying than usual, and
Miss Pentecost sent Bob Whiting out
for remarkably strong birch stick,
which could express her. feelings
better than the old one, which stood
in the corner. She spent some time
in trimming the new twig, though
she was careful to leave a few little
Knots on it, which would give en-
phasis to the blow.
don't think ever saw a better
birch stick, she said, looking at it
ldmiringly.
Now, Kimball, you may take off
7our jacket.
He was used to taking it off, and
le always kept half the buttons un-
astened to save time.
Miss Pentecost gave him an unus-
ally hard whipping; and after it, he
ried until he could hardly see out |
f his eyes. He thought that was
nough, and it was what the boys
all "a square thing;" but at night,
s he was running out of the school
ouse, whistling, she called him up to
er desk.
Well, Kimball, I've whipped you
ard to-day-very hard.
Kim thought there was no doubt
bout that.
Yes'm, responded he, meekly.
Look at this stick. Didn't I take
aims to get a good one?
Yes'm, said Kim; but he didn't
aze at the stick as if he loved it.
Do you know, Kimball, it's very
ard work to whip you? 1t lanes
" arm and hurts my feelings; real
!, / can't afford to do it day after
ay for nothing.
Kim looked up in surprise. This
-as new view of the matter.
You understand me, .Kimball? l
ant afford to do it for nothing any
lore. There's not another boy in
,hool I've whipped SO often as you;
nd this time l must be paid for it.
'on't you think it is fair?
Yes'm, said Kim, in intense amaze
tent, his eyes black and shining like
,ater-melon seeds.
Well, Kimball, 1 think it's worth
least twenty-five cents; and l
ont want you to come to school to-
lorrow without bringing me the
Ioney. Tell your mother abnut it,
nd tell her if you don't bring it, l
lall have to send you home for it.
Goodnight, Kimball, and remember
hat | say.
Yes'm,
What did she do to You this time?
sked Joe Fuller, who had been wait
g outside.
Oh, go long; she didn't DO any
ling to me, replied Kim, sheepish-
:. Come, let's go down to the pond
i'd catch blood-suckers.
Next morning, about school time,
i'm stole along into the shed kitch-
l and hung about the cheese-tub,
here his mother was cutting curd.
Why don't you start for school
ou'll be late, my son.
The mistress whipped me yester-
ly, muttered Kim, helping himself
} lump of curd.
Did she? Well I've M doubt Won