Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1886-10-28
Aunt Deborah and Sam Wad-
ley.

Then, as II SaUlsneu WIFI ohD
IL had done, it rolled lazily across the
floor. and finally stopped under the
table. an inert, Jagged bit OF granite;
/ Aunt Deborah, as the stone pursued
its reckless course, placed her hands
over her head, and shrank back into
her chair, q frightened and unwilling
witness to the destruction OF her prop
erty. It was quite distressing. be
sides the nervous shock, there was the
broken window; there was the cabinet
showing a great white dent that couid
not be easily removed; and there, too,
was the vase she had kept so many
long years, lying shattered and ruined
! before her eyes.
Aunt Deborah was one OF the best
and most kind-hearted OF women; but
she was human, and the sudden
havoc wrought by the missile exas-
oerated as well as frightened her. she
rushed to the window and opened 1t IN
time to see three orfour boys scamper-
ing down the street as fast as their
legs could carry them.
HOh, You young scapegracesp she
cried; il could once lay hold on you
wouldn't teach you lessonP'
But the boys never stopped until
they had disappeared around atriend-
| ly corner. Aunt Deborah was so over
come by the accident, and so intent
upon watching the retreating boys to
whom she desired to teach lesson,
that she did not at first notice bare
footed lad, standing under the win
dow on the pavement below, hold
ing q battered old hat in his hand,
and looking up at her with scared
face and fearful eyes.
please, Miss" said the boy, tremu-
lousy.
"Ohl" Who are you'll Who threw
that stone at my Window" called out
Aunt Deborah, as she spied him.
"Please, Miss" pleaded the boy,
fumbling nervously his torn hat, 81
threw it, but didn't mean to do it.
Didn't mean to do it, eh?" replied
Aunt Deborah, fiercely. 81 suppose
the stone picked itself up and pitched
itself through my glass;"
al was going to throw it down the
street, but Bill Philper touched my
arm, and it turned and hit your win.
dow" he explained.
There was an air OF frankness and
truth about the boy, and the fact
that he had not run away like the
others whom. somehow, Aunt Deb
orah held chiefly responsible for the
outrage, caused her to relent little
toward him.
"Come IN here" she said, AFR eye
ing him closely for a moment.
The lad hesitated; but summoning
all his courage, he went up the steps,
| and soon stood in her presence.
do you see that" she said, point
ing at the window-"and that?" lat
the cabinet land that?" lat the
broken vase )-"and that?" lat the
ssone.) Now, isn't that fine per-
formance?"
81 am very sorry" said the boy,
the tears yelling into his eyes again.
He looked ruefully about at the
damaged articles, and glanced at the
stone, wishing heartily that he had
never sese ia
Now, xx~Ss to be done about itf"
asked she.
81 don't know, ma'am," said he,
very i'll at ease. 81 will try to pay
you for II. )"
"What can you pay, Ishould like to
know" shesaid, CHANGING at his patch.
ed coat and trousers and his torn
hat.
81 sell papers," said he, "and can
pay you little on it every week"
whats your manner" she asked.
"Sam. Wadley," answered the boy.
Have you a father?"
mo ma'am," replied Sam; 'he's
| dead"
"Have you mother"
Eyes, ma am"
"What does she dor" continued
Aunt Deborah.
"She sews, and help her all can,
selling papers.
"How can you pay me anything
| them"
please ma'am, Pll tell mother all
about it, and she'll be willing for me
to pay you all make"
"Well now, we'll see il you are boy
to keep his word" said Aunt Deb
| orah.
How much must pay?" Sam in
| quired anxiously.
"Let me see." Aunt Deborah put
on her spectacles and made a critical
survey OF the room. "Window-fifty
cents; vase-one dollar-I wouldn't
| have it broken for five? That'll do
one dollar and hall. shant charge
| you for the dent in the furniture"
"Pll try to pay you something on it
| every week." said Sam. There are
some days when / don't make any
thing; but when / do, I'll save it for
you
every WE'LL" said Aunt Deborah,
"you may go now"
He thanked her and went slowly
out, while Aunt Deborah began to
! pick up the fragments strewn over the
| floor.
"Oh, wait momentl she cried.
Sam came back.
Take this stone out with you, and
be careful what you do with it next
time" she said "By the way, if you
wish to keep out of trouble, you'd
better not keep company with that
Flipper boy-"Aunt Deborah had a
rather poor memory for names-"ii
had him, wouldn't Igive him a lessonw
She uttered the last sentence with
such a relish that Sam was glad
enough to get away. He was afraid
| she might conclude to bestow upon
him the salutary lesson which she had
promised to give 'Flipper," as she
called him.
Sam hurried home as fast as he
could. His mother, pale, delicate
woman, whose wan features and sunk
en- eyes, showed the effects of too hard
work, heard his simple tale, wiped
away his tears, and encouraged him
in his resolve to pay for the damage
he had done. From that day Sam
began to be very diligent, and to earn
pennies in every honest way possible
to him. And every week he carried
some small amount to Aunt Deborah.
THAT boy has some good in him. I"
she said when he had brought his
first installment. And though she
grew more kind toward him every time
he came, occasionally givinghim glass
OF milk, a sandwich or acake, she rare
ly failed to warn him against the in
fuence OF that "Flipper" boy.
His young companions laughed at
him for paying his money to Aunt
Deborah, and called him coward for
not running away when they ran; but
all they said did not turn him from
his purpose.
One evening he went with cheerful
heart to pay the last installment. As
he passed the window of the sitting
room he glanced in. There sat Aunt
| Deborah, earnestly knitting. The
lamp light fell upon her sober face
and Sam wondered if she ever looked
really smiling and pleasant. at
~ ~ a x u