The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-08-12
Seletteo Storp.
A Lesson in Fractions.

master had boarded with me. Inc Dig
front chamber had been so grim and
ghostly, always shut up and empty. 1t
was our spare room when poor, dear
Charley was alive; but now that | was
widow and poor, it was needless
luxury to keep guest chamber. None
of our old friends cared to visit me
now: Just when | needed them most,
when was lonely and sad and miser-
able, they refused to come. But when
Mr.. Slade took the room | didn't grieve
about the loss of friends. 1t seemed
odd to have money for the guest cham
Der, but the way that l was situated re-
conciled me to the thought very speed
lily indeed.
Then when my boy Charley got into
that scrape at school should just have
died if it had been anybody but Mr..
Slade.
Madam" he said, "your boy is
mischievous-very mischievous."
eyes, sir" l said, meekly.
"And to extend rope in such man.
ner that the unconscious heels of his
teacher shall be tripped up thereby; to
fill the hat of his instructor with stones;
to put wax upon the bench so that the
tails of his coat may adhere to this sub
stance and thus come to grief-all these
things are very reprehensive, madam,
and merit condign punishment"
Yes, sir" l replied, and wiped
away my regretful tears, for / knew
what was coming.
Either Charley would be expelled
from the school or dreadfully beaten by
this injured man. 1t was better to have
him beaten than expelled, but either
was horrible.
''Please don't expel him, Mr.. Slade,'
l said. ''He must be punished, of
course; but please don't beat him very
hard.'
81 shall not beat him at all )" he said.
Don't expel him." l entreated.
Nor expel him. he replied. eff
you'll leave the boy to me, there will
be no further trouble. He has good
heart, and an open, generous, manly
nature. I'll appeal to these, madam,
if you'll allow me. l think we can get
along with Charley if we take the right
way"
"Oh, Mr.. Slade," said, how no.
BILE you are! how generous! how mag
unanimous! l think heaven was good to
send me such "a boarder."
He grew little red under my praise,
and, as it was school time, bowed him
self out; but really he looked like an
archangel to me as he walked down the
street. OF course the smile was alb
surd. He was tall and lean and I'M
calmly; the tails of his long coat did not
flap as gracefully as many another coat
close by. Charley said he was knock
kneed; perhaps he was; 1 don't know
what that term means. He might have
been knock-kneed, but to me that day
he was all that was desirable in man.
The way he managed Charley after
that was miraculous; there is no other
word for it. The boy was as wild and
untamable as young colt when Mr..
Slade took hold of him, and shortly
afterward he was the most tractable
and orderly of mortals. l could see,
though, the time and trouble it cost to
work such wonders with him. In the
spring they went fishing together, and
Mr.. Slade taught Charley how to man
age his hook and line, and wheedle the
poor little fish to his bait. In mid
summer they got up collection of
beetles and bugs and all sorts of things.
1t was terrible to the poor insects, |
suppose; but, oh, dear heaven. what a
rest and comfort it was to have Charley
amused and kept out of trouble.
1 began to rest upon Mr.. Slade; to
contide in him; to ask his advice, and
invariably take it, upon all occasions;
to gratefully take advantage of his
knack in repairing things about the
house, putting in order troublesome
domestic utensils. He always put up
the shades in housekeeping time, and
hung the pictures; and what | should
have done without him that time the
machine got out of order, heaven only
knows. / had dress to finish for Mrs.
Chapel and was working away when,
all al once, the machine began to
squeak dreadfully. 1t was a rasping
noise, fit to raise the hair on ones head
and mine had ached dreadfully all the
morning. / oiled and fused at it, but
all to no purpose; it squeaked more
and more. And, to crown all, the nice
pumpkin pie | had made for Mr.. Slade' IS
luncheon was burned to a crisp. /
smelled it and rushed to the stove, but
too late. 1t was a black ruin and | sat
down and cried over it. 1t seemed to
me so sad and terrible l wanted to lie
down and die when in walked Mr..
Slade to his luncheon.
It's no use coming in," l said; Z"
don't know how you can board here
any way, | am such a miserable house
keeper 1t would be so much better il
Charley and were dead"
g What has happened?" asked Mr.
Slade.
felt ashamed when / saw the look
of alarm in his face.
1t is very sad,' said, " to burn
the crust of a nice pie all to crisp"
g Do you think so?'' said Mr.. Slade
Now for me it is most excellent
mischance. OF all things in the world
revere the burned crust of a pie.
have hesitated to declare this predilec
ton, because | know it is remarkable
one, and not at all likely to be shared
by the majority of people; but fortune
has favored me to-day. Mrs. Sweet, LEI
us have the pie by all means!"
And he actually lifted the horrible
black thing to the table, and ate it-yes
he ate (which was the most graceful
piece of martyrdom / ever saw in man
And then got courage to tell him how
i burned it; that Mrs. Chapel mus
have that dress and the machine ha(
begun to squeak in the most horrible
way; that I'd oiled and fused with it
oil 70 M purnOSe and how I woo IN fin