The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-09-06
TO woULD-BE RUNAwAYs.

Sage Advice to Youthful Aspirants for Great
er Glories than They Have at Home.
Detroit Free Press.
Come, now, my lad, but you want to run away.
No boy ever yet reached the age of fifteen with
out having several times firmly resolved to leave
home: When a boy has made up his mind
to q thing of this sort he ought to carry it out
by all means. The first step in the programme
is to begin saving up bread and meat When
you have a bushel or so of provisions hidden in
the barn, or under the woodshed, you are ready
for the battle with the cold world. Make your
start at night. This will prevent the sun from
tanning your complexion, and you will be quite
certain of the company of a tramp or two.
some boys leave a note pinned to the pillow of
their bed. This note goes on to say that the boy
has been iawed. bulldozed, starved, pounded,
and knocked down and dragged out, until he
has made up his mind to sever the connection.
lie will never be heard Of more. Its probably
the best way to leave a note of this kind, as the
family are then made to fully realize the cruelty
in turning the poor boy out among strangers.
When you have packed up your little bundle
and are off, it will be well to settle upon some
plan for the future. Perhaps you want to be a
sailor. Nothing is easier. Make your way to
some lake or seaport, and most any captain will
take you. If he can't disgust you with the sailor
ing business in about a week, tarbuckets, sea
sickness, poor provisions, and a ropes end will
be called upon to assist him.
Perhaps you want to become a mighty hunter?
Mighty hunters are not made in a few days or
weeks. You want to begin by letting your hair
and finger-nails grow, sleeping in a swamp, and
wasting $40 worth of ammunition to kill a ten
cent %chipmunk.
If you have decided to become a bank clerk,
well and good. II it should so happen that the
bank didn't do any jumping as you made your
application, you can console yourself with the
reflection that it is about to bust.
But, speaking in all seriousness, my boy, if I
had a dozen sons l should be glad to have each
- - H. IL -. k--- - $500
away from home. 1t is the best cure in the
world for that disease called "swell-head."
There is a heap of romance Ill the idea of run
ming away. You think of the sparkling sea, the
green prairies, coral strands, robbers caves,
and pirates treasures. You feel that you
know so much more than your father that it is
a waste of brains for both of you to remain in
the anne house. You have been forced to go to
school. and have been ordered to split wood, and
90 to the grocery after butter like a common
slave. Don't stand it any longer! Pick up your
buds and leave the house and go forth into the
world.
What! Come to a full stop in the road before
you are a mile away! You've got a peck or more
of sour meat and mouldy bread in a pillow case,
seventeen cents in your pocket, and just think
how your father and mother have misused you
at homel The romance begins to wear off. Ell?
You don't care half as much about mermaids
and palm groves and pirate ships as you did an
hour ago. You hate to leave mother after all,
and perhaps father isn't SO much to blame for
bossing you around. Come to think it all over,
perhaps you'd better return home and try and
stand it for a few more weeks.
All! my son, we've all been there! All these
wrinkled, and dignifed, and bald h old
men you meet on the streets have had about the
same experience. We've had that same period
Of "swell-head, and eight out of ten of us have
packed our bundles and slid out to escape par
entail tyranny. Eight out of ten of us have
slipped back again, too, and the experience was
the right sort of medicine for the disease. Any
time you come to feel that you are a poor, over
worked and downtrodden boy, and that if you
only had a fair show you'd know more in a min
ute than your father does in an hour, just skip.
There's nothing like it