The Springdale news., 1889-08-16
PAM s TROUBLES.
All Because ofa Rip and Her Great Dislike
 to sew.


 All Because ofa Rip and Her Great Dislike to Sew. Pam Brown Cher name is Pamelia) dislikcd to sew and, although she was nine years old, she would pin up the rents in her irock rather than sew ! them. Her mother gave her q beaut- full work box complete, but it made no difference.
 One afternoon last summer she went over to Grandma Browns, 10 show her how much she had knit (about an inch) on her red stocking. Her knit ing-bag had long rip in the bottom seam, but Pam would not let her mOth- CT know it. for fear she would insist on its being repaired at once; so she sIyly tucked her knitting, with it's great red ball, inside fl, and trudged away.
 It was half a mile to grandma's house around by tho road. but much nearer across the Pickett lot, where Mir Pickett pastured his flock of sheep, among them old Big Horn the leader. and q cross old fellow. So Pam took the road.
 Buckwheat fritters and bees honey made Pam finger at tea, and it was nearly sunset before she set out for home on the run, turning out now and then to snatch at the ripe raspberries. She had got within sight of the homo chimneys when odd little tugs at her arm made her stop and glance at her bag. Then she dived her hand inside, Yes, there were the needles and the bit Of knitting, but dear! dear! where lOss the big ball?
 She turned the bag upside down, and through the rent in the bottom a rcd woolen thread trailed out and struggled away back over the sandy road in and out among the raspberry bushes. and far out of sight. She could not let mother know it, 50 she began winding it slowly un, on and on. picking outthe snarls in the bushes with wonderful pat ence.
 She was nearly back to Grandma Browns when she came to the end. But she had not got to the end of her | troubles. 1t was SO late now that Pam decided 10 run across the pasture. Not sheep was in sight She could get to tho fence before Big Horn could catch her, any way.
 Pam was mistaken. The sheep had lain down for the night in little hol- low, and Pam had not got half way across before Big-Horn discovered her and gave chase.
 Oh, dearl dear! That unlucky ball Of yarn! No, tho rip! She never would he so idle again if she could only get to the fence! No, never But she knew she couldn't, for Big Horn was close behind, bleating hoarscly and seeming to say: its no use to rum I'll bounce you in half minuter'
 There was a great boulder ahead. and with all her might Pam made for it, and running behind it scrambled to its top, tearing her fingers pitifuly. What should she do? Bg-Horn kent running around the rock, shaking his great head and stamping madly. Pam switched her great knitting bag in his great "brockled' face to drive him off; but bless you. he didn't mind the bag l Then she shouted and screamed for help, but she was too far away to be | heard.
 It was growing dark and the sweet, lonely nightingales began 10 sing in the woods, and Pam sat down on the rock and cried so loudly that Big Horn set up harsh bleat, and butted the stone till his iong. woody tail flew high in the air.
 Pam was now quite frantic, and pluck ing her big slat bonnet from her head she switched Big-Horn furiously. In minute it caught on his horns, the cape and crown falling over his face and blinding him. He began backing off and rearing to get away from the hateful thing, but the strings had got entangled in his horns and hung fast. Pam did not stop long to view his queer antics but leaped of the rock, and in few minutes more her tangled head was in her mothers lap and she was sobbing out her troubles and deep penitence. Her bonnet hung on a thorn bush next morning, into which Big | Horn had plunged 10 get rid of it. Christian Stephens, in Youths Com- paniOn