The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-07-24
Boys.

Boys are the very quiAtessence of con-
trariness. I firmly believe that every
boy between the ages of ten and fourteen
thinks he came into the world for the ex-
press purpose of showing up the oppo-
site side of everything. And they full
fill their mission with inimitable persist.
ency.
For example-if you happen to re-
mark about tea-time that the boys ate
such hearty dinner they won't be very
hungry; when they arrive at the tea
table they will proceed with systematic
determination to demolish every edible
within their reach, and leave the table
at last vociferously calling for more, just
to prove to you that hearty dinners don't
make any difference with boys appe.
tites On the contrary, if you should
chance to assert that as "the boys had a
light dinner to-day, they will be very
hungry" those boys would leave the tea
table half starved rather than betray
the least symptoms of an unusual appe-
tite.
If you insist that after hard days
work boy is too tired to 60 fishing,
he will bounce around whole evening,
perform evolutions of dangerous char
acter, stand on his head, and finally re-
fuse to go to bed an hour after his usual
bedtime, just to prove to you that he
wasn't bit tired.
If, however, you should suggest ever
so family that he isn't too tired to bring
a pail of water, he will wilt like a cab
bage leaf and lop around in the big
chair and on the lounge with the most
agonized expression of WEAKNESS on his
rosy countenance.
But what is a boys contrariness when
compared with his aesthetic tastesl Can
you think of any more touching sight
than to see boy of ten trudging home
from fishing excursion, his pants rolled
up to his knees, his shirt sleeves in tat
tiers, his torn hat on wrong side before,
while under one arm he holds shining
mud-turtle, and the other hand clutches
green frog. Hear him murmer ten
derby as he patters along: ooh, you pref
ty, little teenty, weenty fellahst'
Boys have sorrows which are sad to
contemplate. Just imagine boys feel
ings when, ON coming home from school
some Monday noon, he finds that his
favorite mud-turtle, which he left secure
ly waddling in his mothers washtub,
has been emptied out and lost. Think
Of his grief over the destruction of his
colony of potato bugs which he has
been to so much trouble to convey one
potato patch to another, having con.
structed an emigrant wagon for that
especial purpose. He is speedily COM
forted, however, when informed by his
elder brother that his emigrants have
been killed by the Indians, who used
paris-green for powder.
There is little orphan boy known to
me, whose life of sorrow calls for contin
ual sympathy.
He lives with an aunty who is a con-
slant source of trouble to her nephew,
often requiring him to do the most Oh
jectionable things.
Not long since, happening to pass
through her kitchen just at nightfall, l
discovered the little fellow seated by the
side of pail of warm water, towel
thrown across his lap, his two brown
fists chucked into his eyes, sobbing as if
his heat would break.
"Why, what's the matter, my boy ;
what is the matter, have you cut your
fingerl have you got the toothache p
"N-no," he sobbed; and then, his
sobs deepening into a most piteous howl,
he exclaimed, "Auntie wants me to
wash my feet again-an' l just washed
them the other day boo hoo! 1 don't
want to wash them SO much; they'll git
SO bimeby they won't be no dirt on EN-
to wash of. Boo hoo !"
OF course no one can fail to sympa-
thize with boy whose bare, brown feet
are in danger Of such calalnity.-Ave
Mix, in Pomeroy's Democrat