Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1881-03-10
THAT BOY.
Burlington Ha wkeye.

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suppose it is?'
Farmer Granger turned himself in
bed, listened a moment, and then, with
the sleepy sigh Of one who realizes that
the time for dreaming is over and work
hours are at hand, replied
at is old Warner, likely. He's had
time to get over his tantrum. I'll see"
The farmers toilet was not one that
required hours to perfect, and before
Mrs. Granger had concluded that it was
time to be stirring the brown trousers
and blue frock of her husband could
have been seen at the further end of
the big kitchen, while two keen gray
eyes were peering through the half
opened blind.
No red-nosed, haggard faced old man
met his gaze, but pale-cheeked bare
footed boy, whose low whistle kept time
as he worked, while the heap of sticks
at his feet gave evidence that his saw
had made quick pace since sunrise.
"What are you about boy?" was the
armer's salutation, IA he approached
the wood pile.
81 thought may be YOU would give
me some breakfast if | sawed awhile"
answered the lad, looking up as if to
note how his proposition would be re-
ceived.
Breakfast OF course We never
turn folks away hungry Where did
you come fromW
over east" was the indefinite reply.
''Where'd you sleep last night? ?"
''Under the bushes, down the road
apiece" the boy answered.
"Well, you are a great one should
not wonder, now, if you'd run away?'
half Intercepted the farmer, with n
pleasant twinkle in his eye. "Do you |
mind telling your name?"
Gap, sir"
Gap, hey"
That's what they call mc--my real
name is Jasper
"Who are they-your father and |
mothcr?'
| haven't any, sir"
Brothers and sisters p
Not one" was the curt reply.
The farmer looked sharply at the |
boy from under his broad brimmed |
nat, as the saw piled to and fro, and |
doubtless he would have pushed his |
inquiries still further, had not the inn
patient lowing of Whitley and Doll re-
minded him it was milking time.
Well, you don't look over and |
above strongish. You'd better leave |
that wood alone till you get some
victuals down"
"Id rather keep on was the only |
answer; and the work proceeded with |
no interruption till Ethel, the three
year old pet of the family, came trot- |
ting around the corner Of the house to
annou ace in her baby fashion that
becllfast" was ready.
Come in, come right in. You've
earned good meal of vctuals;' and
Farmer Granger led the way, with his
little girl perched upon his shoulder.
The lad silently took the place assigned
him. at one end of the table, opposite
Ethel and her father, while Mrs. Gran
ger and Il happy faced old lady occu
uied seats ON either side.
The first supply of broiled ham and
oaked potatoes had disappeared from
the boys plate, and the second Install
ment was vanishing bit by bit, when
Mrs. Granger suddenly discovered that
he had no butter.
." No, ma'am; | don't care for it
Ibis bread is good enough without but
ter was the reply when the plate was
passed.
Mrs. Granger received this comph-
ment with a pleased smile, and an eN-
ira large doughnut Immediately found
its way to accompany the BUTTERFLIES
bread.
I'D like to work while longer to
pay fol that breakfast" r"rtarked the
boy rs he followed the farmer through
the wood-house. Il haven't tasted
anything so good for II long time;' and
the saw was taken up without waiting
for permission.
"Well, if you've mind 10 cut and
pile up a spell, you can stay and get
your dinner We always mean to
have good victuals and plenty of them
here
Mrs. Granger stopped now and then
TO look out of the buttery window; and
Il wonder who that boy is anyhow
was repeated more than once that morn
ing to grandma, who sat in the old
rocker quietly knitting.
"Now where are YOU bound for?'
questioned the farmer, rs the lad pick
ed up his bundle after dinner and
seemed ready to take his departure.
Il don't know. sir" he replied, Dig
ging his bare toes into the dirt. Il
s'pose III stay anywhere | set work.
whats the matter with this place."
with a twinkle of the gray eyes. THAT
woods 70 cut, and it'll take three or
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