Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1878-04-24
What a DUH Boy Came To.

What Dull Boy Came To.
"How many children have you, sir"
Better than dOzen," said my faith
er, smiling and rubbing his hands.
''Is it possible." they would reply;
''what family. l3 childrenr'
why, no." said my father, ''you
mistake-Only 10, which presume you
will think better than Dozen"
My father was irclined to look upon
the dark side of life, but my mother
was an exceedingly practical woman,
full of life and energy, an excellent
butter and cheese maker. while she
could cure the best hams and bacon in
the county. She was always busy, and
consequently had no time to be gloomy.
My father used to trouble himself about
one of the older boys whom he fancied
was stupid. He used to tell his dismal
forebodings to my mother.
''That boy will never make any
thing" said he. ''Ask him to fetch a
pitchfork or a rake, and he will stare at
you as though he never heard of pitch
fork in his life. Tell him to go after
the cows, and you II find him two hours
after sitting on the fence staring at va
cancy." Then he would shake his
head and say, "Oh yes, Dan. will have
TO be provided for all his days"
My mother exercised the most sense
n this matter. l think. for she made
the best of the young mans laziness,
as we all called it. She used to put
Dan. when he was quite young man,
TO churning, and she used TO put me, a
mere child, to watch him. She used to
say, "Now, Harriet, you stay around
the dairy, and when Dan. stops you
start him up"
Tum, tum, tum, went the paddle of
the dasher for about 10 minutes, then
it would slowly stop and the churner
would be lost in thought. Then
would remind him, but few minutes
after he would stop again and bring out
from his pocket small Euclid, while
again | would faithfully give him the
necessary admonitions.
My father kept several hundred sheep
and after shearing, the wool was stored
sometimes for months in the large wool
room, built for that purpose, next to
the granery in the brick barn.
"Where is that boy:' asked my
father. sit is not much that care, for
the work, but it distresses me to think
of his growing up in such indolent hab-
its. Hat, go and find him, and tell
him to go to work cutting turnips.'
| was not long in accomplishing this
errand. Behind the immense pile of
fleeces | could always find my gentle
brother DAN, not whiting, nor whist
ling, nor wasting his time (as we all
know now, but diligently poring over
a large volume, which he had borrow
ed from the village schoolmaster. 1t
must have been a book on chemistry,
for there were mysterious words and
characters in it-gypsum, silica, alum
ina, carbon. etc.
l used to look at him, then at the
signs, and think to myself, don't
know, but there is certainly something
queer about the boy. Why don't he
read some interesting story book. or
borrow Shakespeare, like my older sis
ters, and read that on the sly as they
do. 1 mad learned sense OF honor
from the boys, and / never told my
father fthe readings lin their various
characters, either of my sisters or
my brothers. think there N.as mis-
take here; my father was AL intelli-
gent man, and if he had taken the trou
BILE to look into the different DISPOSE
tions, tastes and habits of his children,
my brother Dan. probably might have
been encouraged in his peculiar pro-
pensity to investigate into the deep
mysteries of chemistry and science.
But, to cut the story short, my broth
er surprised my father one day by
showing him a letter from a well-known
professor in an experimental college
offering him salary, which enlarged
nv fathers eyes in more senses than
one. 1t was Dan. who became the COM
fort of my fathers declining years. and
who was made the administrator of his
estate. 1t was Dan. who closed my
fathers ewes, and received the dying
charge to help my mother control the
younger children, and be always tender
with his sisters, a commission most
tenderly fulfilled.