The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1881-01-20
THE THING.A.MA-JIG.
"But especially Thing-a-ma-ji Jig"

-LtUS tHToa.
"No, don't think we exactly spoil
him." said his mother, thoughtfully,
and with q, great air of impartiality.
"No, L don't think we eracttV spoil
him." said his father, like Judge Civ
ing sentence.
"Spoil him! You couldn't spoil him!
B'ess his little heart, it's whole heaps
too tweet to be spoiledr' said his three
young aunts, and in their struggle for
the possession of the inestimable
treasure, they came near disproving
their own words. Aunt Martha snort
ed. 1t certainly was not polite in her
to snort, and perhaps it is not even po-
lite in me to mention il, but truth is
mighty and will prevail.
"Now, Aunt Martha, that isn't fair, :"
said his mother, in an in njured tone, and
exactly as if the old lady had spoken.
1--WE couldn't be more judicious with
him than we are. l try his bath every
morning with the thermometer, myself,
and he never eats thing that haven't
tasted first, and he has never eaten q
bit Of candy but Ridley's broken. and
that only at his dessert, and -"
'.And you didn't walk the floor with
him half the night, last week. because
he had few mosquito bites and a little
prickly heat; and you shook him well
for pouring cologne on the fire and
nearly blowing himself up; and you
sent him to bed without his supper the
night he set fire to the curtains; and
you didn't let him have Your diamond
ring to play with, and lose. because he
cried for it. and -"
''Oh, come now, Aunty," said his
father, intcrrupting the old lady as she
had interrupted her niece, '.you seem
to forget how little he is. l don't
wonder, for certainly his intellect is
remarkable for child of his age; but
he is only three years old. you know,
and we can't begin to reason with him
yet, poor little chap"
''lf his intellect $ so far in advance
of his age, don't see why not," said
Aunt Martha, dryly. but nobody seemed
to hear her. and she continued: "When
mine were that size, l didn't reason
with 'em-I spanked 'emr'
''Yes, and see -" began one of the
young aunts. excitcdly, and then
stopped short, blushing.
Aunt Martha rose abruptly, and left
the room. 1t was only too well known
in the family that her boys had grown
up wild and her girls treacherous an
deceitful.
You ought mt to have said that,
Katie" said the married sister. re-
proachfully.
81 don't carer' and Katie shrugged
her shoulders willfully. 'She's all the
time picking at you and Hal, and 1 m
tired of it; and as for this little angel s
being spoiled-did it want its aunty's s
earrings, b'eSsed little petp There
oh, 40 look girls,-he IS trying to put
them in his dear little ears! Did you
ever see anything so 'cuter'
Now the young aunts were, as they
would have endearingly expressed it,
'.his own-y don-y Aunts," while Aunt
Martha was only his great-aunt.
1t was very warm that night at bed
time, and doors and windows were left
wide open.
The heat prevented Aunt Martha
from sleeping until quite late, and she
had just dropped off comfortably when
she was reused by a wall of such deep
despair that she sprang out of bed al
most before she knew it, and then
stopped to listen for some clue to the
direction whence the sound had come.
She had not long to wait; another wall,
more prolonged than the first. came
Enthusiastically from the room on the OPP
posite side of the passage, where the
son and heir, watched over by his ten
der parents. slept secure. Aunt Martha
stepped into bed again. But first she
made a motion to close the door, and
then drew back, with quick bob of
her head, leaving the door wide open.
Heart-rending sobs followed the wall,
and then little voice said, brokenly:
IL want my thing-a-ma-jig! want
my thing-a-ma-jig! And it isn't here
it's all goner'
The mother made some tender sug-
gestion which Aunt Martha could not
catch, and once more that wall broke
the silence of the night.
"No! Nor shrieked their darling.
al won't have it; take it away! won't
have anything but my thing -a-ma-jig?
II IN afraid you'll have to get it,
DEAR" said the treasures mother, lit
tie reluctantly. "He'n make himself
i'll if he cries So"
("lt's of no consequence whether he
rouses the house or not" said Aunt
Martha to herself, with such fine scorn,
that il was dreadful pity it was vast
ed on an imaginary audience.)
'.Do you know where it is?"-Aunt
Martha heard the scraping of a match.
He left it in the library; it's my fault,
dearie, ,"-penitently,- meant to
bring it up, and forgot it. There,
there. don't cry any more, darling;
papa's gone for his thing-a-ma-i Jig, and
he'll have it in a minute"
The sobs ceased as the fond father
was heard returning; but, presently.
they broke forth afresh, and among
them. Aunt Martha distinguished the
words: 'Papa didn't bring my button,
and it won't play without my button,
and 'spect nv buttons lo-o-o-str'
''Here are the scissors, Harry. Cut
him off a button from your coat; I'll
sew on another in the morning. can't
bear to hear him TO sob so, and he's
only half awake, YOU know. Poor little
chap! He can't be well. There, old
fellow, there's q famous button foI
you. Now put your thing-a-ma-jig to
Sleep"
Silence reigned after this. broken just
once by low, sleepy little laugh, which
somehow sounded like the bird-notes
one hears in the stiffness of the short
summer nights.
Sheepishness, and a determination to
brave it out, contended for the mastery
on the faces of the parents, as they met
Aunt Martha Mt breakfast.
"Pm afraid he disturbed you little
last night" said his mother. deprecat
"Hq did-~a good deal" answered
Aunt Martha. grlmly' "what allied
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