West-Jersey pioneer., 1880-06-10
HTERONYMUS POP AND THE
BABY.

CHOW, 'Onymus Pop" said the mother Of
that gentle boy, ''you jes take keer O. dis
chile while Pm gone ter de hangin'. An
don't you leave dis honse on no account,
not if de skies fall an de earth opens tel
swaller yer."
Hieronymus grunted gloomly. He
thought it burning shame that he should
not go the hanging; but never had his
mother been willing that he should have the
least pleasure in life. 1t was either to tend
the baby, or mix the cows food, or to card
wool, or cut wood, or to pick chicken, OF
wash up the floor. or to draw water, or to
sprinkle down the clothes-always some
thing. When everything else failed, she
had way, that seemed to her son simply
demoniac, of setting him at the alphabet.
To be sure, she did not know the letters her.
self, but her teaching was none the less Wig
orous.
"What's dat, Onymus?" she would say,
pointing at random with her snuff brush to
letter.
"Q"-with sniff.
"Is you sho?'-in hollow voice.
Woe be unto young Pop if he faltered,
and said it might be z. Mother Pop kept
rod ready, and us ed it as if she was born
for nothing else. Naturally he soon learned
to stick brazenly to his first guess. But
unfortunately he could not remember from
one day to another what he had said; and
his mother learned after a time, to distin-
guish the forms of the letters, and to know
that curly letter called S on Tuesday could
not possibly be a square shaped E on Thurs
day. Her faith once shattered, 'Onymus
had to suffer in the usual way.
The lad had been taught at spasmodic in
called Sissy-who went to school, put on
airs, and was always clean. Therefore HE
ronymus hated her. Mother Pop herself
was a little in awe of her accomplished
daughter, and would ask her no questions,
even when most in doubt as to which was
which of the letters G and g.
ga pretty thingv' she would mutter to
herself, ''if must be a-learnin' things from
my own chile, dat wuz de mos colicky baby
ever had, an cos me unheerd of miseries
in de time of her teethin'."
1t seemed to Hieronymus that the climax
of his impositions had come, when he was
forced to stay at home and mind the baby,
while his mother and the rest of them trot-
ted off, gay as larks, to see man hanged.
1t was hot afternoon, and the unwilling
nurse suffered. The baby wouldn't go to
sleep. He put it on the bed-a feather bed
and why it didn't drop off to sleep, as a
proper baby should, was more than the tired
soul of Hieronymus could tell. He did every
thing to- soothe Tiddlekins. (The infant
had not been named as yet, and by way of
affection they addressed it as Tiddlekins. J
He even went so far as to wave the flies
away from it with mulberry branch for
the space of five or ten minutes. But as it
still fretted and tossed, he let it severely
alone, and the flies settled on the little black
thing as if it had been a licorice stick.
After while Tiddlekins grew aggressive,
and began to yell. Hieronymus, who had
almost found consolation in the contempla-
tion of bloody picture pasted ON the wall,
cut from the weekly paper Of wicked city,
was deprived even of this solace. He picked
up ode miserbul little screech- OWL" as he
called it in his wrath. He trotted it. He
on mr. to r. ba oooth;nn. J;++u oc
"'Taint never gwine to rain no mo-;
Sun shines down on rich and po'.''
But all was vain. Finally, in despair, he
undressed Tiddlekins. He had heard his
mother say, "Of'en and of'en when chile
is a-screamin' it's breff away, faint nothin'
ails it 'cep'n pins"
But there were no pins. Plenty of strings
and hard knots; but not a pin to account
for the antics of the unhappy Tiddlekins.
How it did scream! 1t lay on the stif1y
braced knees of Hieronymus, and puckered
up it's face SO tightly that it looked as if it
had come fresh from wrinkle mould.
There were no tears, but sharp regular yells,
and rollings of its head, and distractina
monotony in its performances.
''Dis here chile looks IS if it's got de mea.
sles," muttered Hi, gazing on the squirming
atom with calm eyes of despair. Then, run
ming his fingers over the neck and breast Of
the small Tiddlekins, he cried, with the all
of one who makes discovery, '1t's got de
heat! Dats what ails Tiddlekins!'
There was really little breaking out on
the childs body that might account for his
restlessness and squalls. And it was such a
hot day! Perspiration streamed down HIS
back, while his head was dry. There was
not quiver in the tree leaves, and the silver
poplars showed only their leaden side. The
sunfowers were dropping their big heads
the flies seemed to stick to the window.
panes, and were too languid to crawl.
Hieronymus had in him the materials Of
which philosophers are made. He said to
himself, "'Taint nothin' but heat dat's dc
matter wild dis baby; so uf cose he ought tel
be cooled Off"
But how to cool him off-that was the
great question. Hi knitted his dark brows
and thought intently.
It happened that the ehiefest treasure Of
the Pop estate was deep old well that in
the hottest days yieldedswater as refreshing
as, iced Champagne.o The neighbors al
made convenience ofthe Pop well. And
half way down its long cool hollow hung
pretty much all Of the time, milk CAPS, but
ter pats, fresh meats-all things that needed
to be kept cool in Summer days.
He looked at the hot, squirming, wretched
black baby on his lap; then he looked at the
well; and, simple, straightforward lad that
he was, he put this and that together.
ssIf was ter hang Tiddlekins down de
well,' he reflected, "twouldn't be mo- dar
three jumps of flea befo' he's as cool as
Christmas"