The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1885-01-14
fur tbe CHILDREN.
The NeighbOrs' Boys.

as these were about us. Mr.. Wilborn |
said, soothingly, with kind of twinkle |
in his eye-I suppose the man remem-
bered he once was "horrid boy"
himself
ooh, well, wife, wouldn't worry;
perhaps the little chaps won't trouble
you as much as you anticipate"
But just at that moment, with whoop
and bound, came half dozen of them
round our alley; we were at supper, and
as / turned to see what was the matter,
l was only just in time to see half
dozen pairs of heels flying over the
back fence.
"Well, did you ever!" / gasped.
ooh, yes" said Mr.. Wilborn, GIVE
Skinned it over the neighbors' fences
more than hundred times; my turn to
take it now, that's all.'
Well, it looked like terrible trial.
OF course, like every other woman, 1
wanted to be as popular with my neigh
bors as possible, so resolved not to
make any more fuss about it than l
could help; but had guilty suspicion
that poor Horace would hear her fuss
ing enough. Well, they clattered and
raced and whistled; they footed and
sang and climbed, and were veritabe
boys, can assure you; yet, at the end
of three days, had not seen or heard
anything absolutely Objectionable, only
the general racket and running fire of
sport continually kept up. On the
afternoon of the fourth day, which
happened to be Saturday, perplexity
occurred. l had received note saying
some friends were coming to tea, and
as my girl had not yet arrived, there
was no one to send on some necessary
errands. l went to the door and looked
anxiously forth t. see how far off a
store might be, and if 1 could take
four-year-old Addie with me. One
neighbours boy was perched on the rail
ing separating our piazza from the
next one. Another was sitting on the
fence Two or three lurked in the
alley. AS my anxious face looked
forth, the monkey on the fence actually
took off his cap as he inquired respect
fully:
"Haye you lost anything, Mrs. Will
born?"
sob, no. l said, pleasantly, " I was
only thinking of going on an errand,
and didn't know just how to-"
"Why, send usl'' said the merry boy,
with bound off the fence and a nod
toward the others.
evil you really go?" 1 inquired, as
railing, fence and alley delivered up
their phalanX.
Why, yes ma'am," said boy with
dimples-that "horrid boy" actually
had dimples-" why, that's what we're
for! We hang around just to do er-
rands and be useful. Mamma says
that's what boys are made for"
{" laughed a relieved laugh as pro-
duced basket and told off my wants,
and in less than fifteen minutes those
mimic locomotives came choo-chooing
for, and the change all right | was
proceeding to give cent or two all
around when, with a whistle, off they
bounded, one little chap lingering to
say with mock dignity:
"We young gentlemen never take
pay till we do something"
Two or three days after, just as Hor-
ace was starting out to business, we
missed little Addie. She had skipped
off while we were eating breakfast, and
we thought she was with the girl, who
came the day before. The child was
nowhere to be found. With pale face
Horace and / rushed to the door. Boys
everywhere.
80 boys!" 1 cried, :" my little girl
has run away; what shall l do?'
"Do! Why find her of course! :"
was the unperturbed chorus. " She
hasn't run away from us, you better
believe" said one consoling little fell
low, there isn't corner in the city
where sissy could hide and we not poke
our noses in less time than you can say
Jack Robinson"
ooh, bless the dear boys!" 1 ex-
claimed, A." how they do cheer me.''
Horace looked at me, but said never
word. put on my bonnet to join
the search, but before / reached the
end of the long block two boys came
around distant corner carrying Addie,
d" armchair" on their clasped hands.
A shrill whistle recalled the scouts.
Horace produced handful of small
change, but low bow from the boy
with dimples was accompanied with
the remarkable speech:
We boys don't take change until
folks know us, and then they never
offer it,.
But the time came when | broke down
and cried, cried hard. Horace came
home from the city one day, when we
had been in our new home about fort
night, very ill. l was terrified at his
appearance, he looked and seemed so
sick. When he got to the door, he de-
clared afterwards, he could not manage
his night-key, he was so faint. But a
ubiquitous boy unlocked the door for
him; then two others helped him into
the house, as deity as if they had been
men. met them in the hall and un-
derstood matters at a glance. A third
boy had started with my message to the
doctor in trice. A fourth softly asked
permission to take Addie up and down
the sidewalk " for little change" and
l blessed the boys thoughtfulness in the
midst of my hurry and anxiety.
The two who helped Horace in staid
with me, moving silently about assisting
in little ways, until Horace was in bed
and the doctor came and treasured me.
Then all at once there wasn't boy to
be seen; not boy until about an hour
afterwards, when / happened to go to
the back door; there, perched on the
fence, in solemn conclave, were seven of
my neighbors' boys, so silent | should
never have suspected they were around
unless / had seen them. AT my appear
ance one boy spoke up cheerily: