The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-08-25
To Late TO Recall.

eon; o little large-headed BOY OF nervous
intensity, with eyes of startling wonder,
and long curling eye-lashes, which start
ed like his fawn-like eyes with quick ap-
prehension and timidity; o boy who
played with intensity, kept doing some
thing all day long without the power to
rest, walked off alone, and even when
alone spoke with himself, and chased the
geese with little legs swift and lean, and
at the table could not sit very still nor
sit all the morning in church hearing
the sermon, because his heart was too
rapid in his little chest, where every rib
could be counted against his tender flesh
and skin. In the morning he was awake
at earliest light; at evening his tired ma
ture yielded to the deep sleep of exhaus-
ton. His mother feared she could never
raise him to be a man. His father
thought he was too long becoming man
in gravity, sobriety and formal obe-
dience.
What ails my SOM" the father stern
ly asked.
"He is rattle-head and without sta
bility. fear for him. Do you chas-
tise him enough" Spare not the rod
lest he grow beyond you and your rule"
"Alasw exclaimed the mother, ''he
has his little world we cannot see, per-
haps. He is growing and sensitive. The
doctor says we must not push him in his
studies, but let him play all he can till
his frame is equal to his brain
The father shook his head and spoke
sternly to the boy, and feared he was 60
ing to give them all trouble growing SO
unmoulded and unrestrained.
All day the little boy was doing some
thing, carrying the dog under his arm,
making pictures on paper, OF engines,
and steamboats, and Indians and bellows.
"He will be an artist, said his mother,
hopefully.
"He will spoil the library" said his
father, suspiciously.
Antagonist grew up between father
and son, born on the boys part, Of fear;
on the fathers, of criticism and severity.
The boy ran to his mother and asked for
protection from his fathers suspecting
eye. The father feared his wife was
spelling the son with mistaken generos-
ity and allowance. At times the fathers
habitual suspicious broke away like the
clouds above, hard, humid Britain, and
he laid his rigorous books of theology
down to take his boy walking, and they
grew little nearer. Then again the
father observed some voluptuous tend
ency in the son which started his fears
anew; some tastes for worldly, passing
modes and joys.
"Wife," said he, "do you ever give
our boy money!"
"a little" she said, "a few pennies to
buy drawing materials and colors; he
will be an artist, think"
Money" exclaimed the sire, sis the
root OF every evil. You had better give
him fire or poison. He will become o
wild and ruined spendthrift."
The idea that his wife gave the child
money operated in the fathers head like
jealousy or revenge; it tinted everything
about his sons conduct, and he believed
his wife had deliberately set to work to
indulge her child at the expense of his
soul.
One morning, thinking of such things,
the father lay awake in bed and gentle
noise disturbed him. The sun was
nearly up, though it was scarcely 5
O'Clock, and the light and air striking
through the chamber curtains showed
little boy in his nightgown stealing along
the floor toward the foot of his fathers
bed. Lying perfectly still, with eyes al
most closed the father saw the small,
large headed child, unable perhaps to
sleep, yet careful not to awake his
parents, turn an eye of timid covetous-
ness upon his fathers trousers and vest
hanging upon nail. He glanced sharply
toward his father to see if he was quite
asleep, and then swiftly, like a bird,
hoped upon chair and ran his lean
white fingers into his fathers vest
pocket.
"Ha," thought the father, my son in
my pockets by stealth, before I am
awake, and initiating the bad example of
my wife, who often, perhaps, searches
unauthorizedly there?"
As he said this dreadful idea crossed
his mind. That son, spoiled by the
mothers indulgence, already corrupted
by spending money. was thief, q thief
while yet child He rose in bed and
spoke in voice of thunder.
Robert, are you stealing my money!"
Horror froze the boy; he dropped
from the chair like cat, and went into
his own bed into the next room and COW
cred his face with the sheets. Anguish
and stern resolve possessed at once the
stricken fathers heart. He had delayed
too long to cahstise his hayward son, now
gliding into ruin. It must be done,
hard though the thought should be. He
awoke his wife. and, suppressing her re-
plies with an iron will, related the story