The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1876-03-02

kIM'S LAST WHIPPING.
There was once wretched little
unpanted school house that stood in
a bank all summer, and in a
snow bank all winter, waiting Tor a
strong north wind to blow it over.
"Say, what will you sell that school
house ior?" asked traveller Of lit
tie boy, who stood on one foot on a
a ricke,y door step.
sFor bunch of Matches" an
swered the little boy as quick as
thought.
The man laughed and rode on.
The boy was kimball Price, the rogue
of the town of Skookac, district mum
ber three, and ,he try-patience of all
his teachers. He was a handsome
lad, ten years old. l do not mean
that he was always ten; but that was
his age when Miss Pentecost whipped
him, and that is where our story be-
gins.
Now, Miss Pentecost taught the
school that summer at district number
three. She liked Kim-everybody
liked him; but that was no reason
why he should be allowed to tie girls
together by the hair-they wore long
braids in those days-or fire paper
balls, OR eat choke cherries, or stick
pins in the benches to make A B G.
scholars cry "O!' when they were
not saying their letters. Miss Pente-
cost never winked at their night
mares; and rs whippings were fash
ionahle at that period, she whipped
Kim regularly three times week.
1t was considered the most direct
way of reaching the conscience.
But Kim never could remember a
whipping more than day and half,
Or at the longest, three days, and
Miss Pentecost began to grow dis
oouraged. Must Kim always 20 on
doing mischief, and neglecting his
lessons-a boy who could learn SO
well if he chose?"
She knew his mother--a poor Wild
ow, with large family of children
and she was sure Mrs. Price could
not afford to send Kim to school
merely to 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 clog
cabin" under her chin, and stepped
out of the school house.
Just then she caught these words,
spoken by Kim with great energy,
and 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 SOP
Miss Pentecost laughed all to her.
self, aud passed on through the sand
bank into the dusty road. When she
had gone as far as the big willow, she
paused little and laughed again.
81 like to hear 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
pretty good son. Anyway, I've 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 had
been more trying than usual, and
Miss Pentecost sent Job Whiting out
for remarkably strong birch stick,
which could express her feelings bet
ter than the old one, which stood IN
the corner. She spent some time
in trimming the new twig, though
she was careful to leave q few little
knots on it, which would give en-
phasis to the blows.
81 don't think l ever saw better
birch stick" said she, looking at it
admiringly.
Nov, Kimball, you may take off
your jacket"
He was SO used to taking it off
that he always. kept half the buttons
unfastened 10 save time.
Mss Pentecost gave him an un-
usually hard whipping, and after it
he cried till he could hardly see out
Of his eyes. He thought that was
enough, and it was what the boys
call a "square thing" but at night,
as he was running out of the school
house, whistling, Miss Pentecost
called him up to her desk
"Well, kimball, I've whipped you
hard to-day-very hard"
Kim thought there was no doubt
about that.
"Yes'm," responded he, meekly.
"Look at this stick. Didn't | take
pains to get good one?'
"Yes'm," said Kim; but he did not
gaze at the stick as if he loved it.
"Do you know, Kimball, it's very
hard work to whip you? 1t lanes
| my arm, and it hurts my feelings.
Really, can't afford to do it day
after day for nothing"
Kim looked up in surprise. This
was a new view of the matter.
"You understand me Kimball? ]
can't afford to do it for nothing any
more. There's not another boy in
school I've whipped SO often as you;
and this time l must be paid for it
Don't you think that's fair%'
+. "Yes'm," said Kim, in intense
amazement, his eyes as black and
shining as watermelon seeds.
: swell, Kimball, think it's worth
K at least twenty-five q MS; ani ! dom