The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-02-23
TURNING THE TABLES;
or, Was He MadP
By HELEN G. FOSTER.

The brief, decisive battle was ov'
The seven-year-old enemy-routed, b
not subdued-was carried of, kiokin
In his nurses arms, screaming at t
very pitch OF his infantile lungs, II wor
won't! w-o-o-o-n't be good boy
while the last glimpse his mother caug
was scarlet countenance where Il
heels should be, and the two beslippere
feet, oseillating like human pendulum
Mrs. Jessamy looked after little Ton
my in maternal tribulation
"Do let me 60 to him, Solomon" sh
pleaded. II am sure could quiet him.
But Mr.. Jessamy-a bald headed sag
Of five-and-ffty, with round google
that gave Observation-Disclosures expires
sion to his countenance, and spotlesl
white waistcoat, festooned with seal ant
chains-laid OBTAINING hand on hel
arm.
Sara" quote he, oracularly. "I an
astonished at this very culpable weak
ness on your part. The boy has com
mitted great fault, in thus giving way
to an uncontrolled temper, and he must
be punished accordingly"
''But, Solomon, he is such mite Of a
thingr' pleaded the mother, piteously.
''That makes no difference, my dear.
Solitary confinement, Sarah-solitary
confinement, on bread and water-is
What will break his spirit"
"But he may come out to supper, Sol
omonr
Mr.. Jessamy settled the goggles on
the bridgs of his nose, with an autocra-
tic dignity of movement.
''He will remain in the back store
room until tomorrow morning, Sarah"
"Alone" gasped the nervous mother.
"Aloner' pronounced the domestic
grand mogul. "Believe me, thors is
nothing like solitary confinement. 1t
has been proved, my dear, more then q
score Of times. That boy Of yours
Mr.. Jessamy spoke as If he himself had
nothing whatever to do with the pro-
prietorship OF Master Tomny-"has a
temper, and that temper has got to be
broken. Pray, Mrs. Jessamy, do not
annoy me with any further misjudged
intercessions."
And thus pronouncing his sitinsasuns,
Mr.. Jessamy stalked out into the gar
den, to view the ripening globes Of net
ted melons, and he budding stalks of
tuberoses. For Mr.. Jessamy was a
man Of hobbies, and the latest hobby
was horticulture, the more satisfactorily
to ride which he had rented this little |
villa on the banks Of the Schuylkill,
with IN abundance Of Gothic gables.
honeysuokle LEAKAGE and water-fronts.
"Simmonsr'said Mr.. Jessamy, sharp
~, a. he stood with both hands in his
pockets, surveying his domains.
"Sir" grunted Simmons lank spe-
cimen Of the genus general gardener,
who appeared to exist with spade over
his shoulder and . measuring-line half
way out Of his pocket.
"How are the egg-plantsi"
''Gettin' along nicely, sir"
"And the cherry tomatoesp''
swell, sir, the dry weather helps 'sm
along amasin'."
"And, Simmons'-Mr. Jessamy bent
Town, settled his goggles. and then re- '
'ettled them.
"Sir."
"Where is the big melon that had
,ere-a watermelon. Simmons, Oh
late just close to this staker'
"Well, sir, l up and throwed il
swsy," owned Simmons. "For what .
vatermillion, sir,was dom among them :
"You scoundrel! you rsscali'' roared
Mr.. Jesssmy. "How dared you do such .
! thingP Do you know, sir, that you Z
lave frustrated one Of the finest scien-
ific experiments Of the age-a water.
melon grated ON the stem of 10 canta-
oupe-vine-grafted by my own handsr .
And you to 60 and throw it away IS ii I;
t wero blighted pumpkin or a half I
ipe squash! How dared you, 1 sayP
Villain! wretch! get out Of my sightr'
And Mr.. Jessamy, stopping short in =
lis Infatuated war dance, made such a
i've at poor Simmons that that worthy, 7
ctually fearing for his bodily preserva- b
lon. whisked around among the young
and ran for his life, crush D
'g through hot-bed sashes and entang- Al
ng his long ankles in mats Of sweet
otato vines. N
II never knowed gentleman with
lch temper before!" painted Simmons a,
he boltsd headforemost into his tool bl