The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-10-28


sides the nervous shock, there was the
broken window; there was the cabinet
showing great white dent that could
hot be easily removed; and there, too,
was the vase she had kept 90 many
long years; lying shattered and ruined
before her eyes,,
Aunt Deborah was ono OF the best
and most kind hearted of women; but
she was human, and the sudden
havoc wrought by the missile exas-
perated as we'll as frightened her. She
rushed to the window and opened it in
timeto see three or four boys scamper-
ing down the street as fast as their
legs could carry them.
"Oh, you young scapegraces!" she
cried; if l could once lay hold on you
wouldn't teach you a lessonl"
But the boys never stopped until
they had disappeared around a. friend
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 q 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 a scared
face and fearful eyes.
please, Miss" said the boy,
lousy.
"Oh!" Who are you! 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, II
threw it, but Ididn' mean to do it,"
didn't mean to do it, eh?" replied
Aunt Deborah, fiercely. II suppose
the stone picked itself up and pitched
itself through my glass!"
II was going to throw it down the
street, but Bill Philper touched my
arm, and it turned and hit your win.
dow" be 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 a little
toward him.
"Come IN here" she said, after 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 thatT' lat
the cabinet land that?" lat the
broken vase) )-"and that" lat the
stone.) "Now. isn't that q fine per-
formance?"
II 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 seen it.
"Now, what's to be done about it?"
asked she.
II don't know, ma'am," said he,
very i'll at ease. II will try to pay
you for it,"
"What can you pay, Ishould like to
know" she said, glancing at his patch
ed coat and trousers and his torn
hat.
II sell papers," said he, "and can
pay you little on it every week.,
"Sam. WadIey," answered the boy.
"Have you a father?"
"No ma'am," replied SAM; "he's
dead"
Have you a mother?"
Eyes, ma am"
"What does she do?' continued
Aunt Deborah.
"She sews, and I help her all l can,
selling papers,"
How can you pay me anything
them"
"Please ma am, I'll tell mother all
about it, and she'll be willing for me
to pay you all make"
"Well now, we'll see If you are a 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 g. 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 a half. shant charge
you for the dent in the furniture.
"rll try to pay you something on it
every week." said Sam. There are
some days when l don't make any,
you
every WE'LL" said Aunt Deborah,
''you may 60 now"
He thanked her and went slowly
out, while Aunt Deborah began to
pick up the fragments strewn over the
floor.
"Oh, wait moment! 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-''if l
had him, wouldn't Igive him a lesson!"
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 clipper" as she
called. him.
Sam hurried home as fast as he
could. His mother, a 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 dilieent, 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."
she said when he had brought his
first installment. And though she
grew more kind toward him every time
he came, occasionally eiving;him glass
OF milk, a sandwich or acake, she rare
ly failed to warn him against tho in
luence of that clipper" boy.
His young companions laughed at
him for paying his money to Aunt
Deborah, and called him q 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
hao - ,>o~p kha l. - l1,nn-k