The Republican journal., 1885-09-17
A Lesson in Fractions.

A Lesson in Fractions
1t was such blow to me-such bit
ter, verwhelming blow. had been so
comfortable and happy since the school
master had boarded with me. The big
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 a
widow and poor, it was a 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 miserable, they refus-
ed to come But when Mr., Slade took
the room didn't grie0e about the loss of
friends. 1t seemed odd to have money
for the guest chamber, but the way that
| was situated reconciled me to the
thought very speedily 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 mis-
chevous-very mischievous."
"Yes, SIR 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 sticky
substance and thus come to gret-all
these things are very reprehensible, mad
am, and merit condign punishment
Eyes, sir" replied, and wiped away
my regretful tears, for knew what was
coming
Either Charley would be expelled from
the school or dreadtully beaten by this
injured man. 1t was better to have him
beaten than expelled, but either was
horrible.
"Please don't eXpel him, Mr. Sade,'
said. 'He must be punished, of course !;
but please don't beat him very hard"
Il shall not beat him at all" he said.
"Dont eXpel him." entreated.
"Nor eXpel him." he replied. eff
you'll leave the boy to me, there will he
no further trouble. He has a good heart,
and an open, generous, manly nature.
III appeal to these, madam, if you'll al
low me. | think we can get along with
Charley if We take the right way"
"Oh, Mr.. Slade," said, chow noble
you are how generous how maguani-
nous. think Heaven was good to send
me such IA b0ardcr."
lie grew a little red under my praise,
and as it was school time. bowed himself
ont but really he looked like an arch
angel to me as he walked down the
street OF course the simie was absurd
He was tall and lean and ungainlv; the
tails Of his long coat did not Hap as grace
fully as many another coat close by.
Charley said he was knock kneed per
haps he was | don't know what that term
means. He might have been knock
kneed, but to me that day be 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
untamabe as a young colt when Mr..
Slade took hold Of him, and shortly after
ward he was the most tractable and Or
derll Of mortals. | could see though.
the time and trouble it cost to work such
wonders with him. In the spring they
Went fishing together, and Nh Slade
taught Charley how to manage his hook
and line. and Wheedle the poor little fish
to his bait In midsummer they got up
a 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 me to have Charley amused and kept
out Of trouble
began to rest upon Mr. Slade, to con
tide in him, to ask his advice, and inyar-
iably take il, upon all occasions, to
gratefully take advantage of his knack
in repairing things about the house, put
ting in order troublesome domestic uten-
sils. He always put up the shades in
housecleaning time, and hung the pic
lures; and what | should have done
without him that time the machine got
out of order, heaven only knows. had
a dress to finish for Mrs. Chapel, and
was working away when, all at once, the
machine began to squeak dreadfully. 1t
was a rasping noise, fit to raise the hair
on ones head, and mine had ached dread
fully 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's luncheon was burned to 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, wanted to lie down
and die. when in walked Mr.. Slade to his
luncheon.
"It's no use coming in," said, ~
don't know how you can board here, any
way. am such miserable housekeep-
er. 1t would be so much better if Char
lev and were dead"
"What has happened?" asked Mr..
Slade.
felt ashamed when | saw the look of
alarm in his face.
at is very sad," said, ''to burn the
crust of a nice pie all to crisp"
"Do you think SOL" said Mr.. Slade.
"Now for me it is most excellent mis-
chance. OF all things in the world | re-
we're the burned crust of pie. | have
hesitated to declare this predictions, be-
cause | know it is remarkable one, and
not at all likely to be shared by the ma
iority of people; but fortune has favored
Inc today. Mrs. Sweet, let us have the
pie by all means.'
And he actually lifted the horrible
black thing to the table, and ate it-yes,
he ate it-which was the most graceful
piece of martyrdom ever saw in man.
And then got courage to tell him how
burned it; that Mrs. Chapel must have
that dress and the machine had begun to
squeak in the most horrible way that I'd
oiled it and fused with it, all to no pur-
pose, and how | was to finish that dress
of Mrs. ChappePs with that dreadful
know.
"We'll look at it." he said, in that rest
ing, comforting, soul cheering way of his,
and as followed him into the sitting
room, knew in my heart that he would
exercise that squeaking DIT non from the
Nd ho J,l