Iron County register., 1889-08-08
TROUBLESOME KNOTS.

How Little Dot Was Taught That They
Never Can He Smoothed Out.
They made pretty picture. did grand
mother and little Dot. Grandmother
sat in her low rocking-chair, with her
glasses pushed back above her fore
head and before her stood Dot holding
outstrctched brilliant skein of wool
upon her chubby little hands.
Hurry up, drandma, said Dot, with
a slight frown, ''you's so slow"
Grandma took no heed, apparently,
but went on with the utmost precision.
Slowly the yarn reeled over the chubby
about grandma's ball.
Dot stood first upon one foot. then
the other, like barn-yard fowl. and
gave at intervals a tremendous sigh us
evidence of her WEAKNESS.
''You's 'zasperatin'." she at last
broke out; ''really and truly. Grandma,
you's old 'zasperatin' hisself.'
.'What?" cried the startled old lady,
who had been intent on her winding, or
perhaps lost in a reverie of other days;
''what is that you are saying. Dot9"
Il said you was a 'zasperatin' old
poke" replied Dot, firmly. Il is most
tired to deaf, and there you go on
windin' jes' as if you was asleep"
"Well, l never!' gasped the old
lady.
l pretended to be intent upon the
work before me, yet could scarce re-
frain from laughing aloud.
Tired, eh!' queried grandma with a
twinkle in her eye; well, we will soon
be through. and you can lie down and
rest"
No, I'm going out to jump rope"
incautiously said Dot. "with Willie and
Rose. They're jumping now, don't
you hear 'em drandma?'
'.Ah, you are going to rest your
weary limbs by jumping rope
replied grandma. ''Well, so that you
won't be entirely used up, suppose you
sit on this chair" pulling one beside
Dot.
Dot sulkily complied. but as she did
so dropped her hands in feigned weari-
ness.
"See," cried grandma, ''you are
letting strands of the wool slip over
your fingers. Hold up your hands,
dear. and we will soon be through"
and on went the old lady placidly and
slowly winding as before.
Dot for space looked the pictt.fe
of youthful resignation, but soon her
impatience returned.
Hurry up she cried, vehemently.
you're enough to desperate the pa
tience Of job" and again l saw her
slyly drop a loop or two from her fin
gers, as she moved restlessly upon the
chair.
Grandma looked at her rep-ovingly,
but fastened somewhat her move
ments. There was a pause presently in
the winding. The old lady brought
her spectacles down from her forehead,
and peered at the skein of wool.
There's a snarl." she said, ''dear,
dear, how did that Gomez"
Its an awful hard knot" cheerfully
said Miss Dot. after grandma had made
several attempts to disentangle the
snarl. II dess you had better get it
all right. Grandma, and we'll wind the
ball mother time"
.'Oh, no. Dot. Wei get it all right
now.' replied grandma with a jerk.
Snap went the strand. Several min
utes we consumed in Strengthening the
skein. and grandma carefully knotted
the broken threads together before re-
suming her winding.
The sounds of laughing and jumping
outside the window came borne in upon
the stiffness of the room. Another pet
ulant movement from Dot.
Il is SO nervous. l can't hold STILL"
she next exclaimed, impatiently tug
ging at the wool.
Dear, dear, another knot" cried
grandma, peering over her spectacles
at Dot. why, at this rate we will
never get through
But at last it was done, and away
scampered Dot, every vestige of iil-hu-
NOR banished from her pretty face.
Grandma's glance met mine.
''The wool is for her own stockings"
quietly said she, as if in answer to
something she read in my eyes, ''and
intend those knots shall teach her e.
lesson which mere words would fail to
accomplish. Youthful experiences, if
rightly impressed, may serve to guard
the future from sterner ones.
The old lady's favorite expression.
Il know" played about her firmly
closed lips, but she gave no utterance
to them as with ball in hand she sat
gazing upon pictures of the past
pictures whose light and shadows were
reflected in her own dim eyes, in the
fitting smile upon brow or lip.
Well, if grandma had been slow ir
winding the ball, it was more than she
was in lessening it again. How fast
her needles flew! Early in the morn
ing, late at night went on the knitting.
Dots eyes watched the progress of the
stockings, and her admiration was un-
bounded over their hue
Red stockies, and red hood, and
red mitties! My, it pears Sunday
won't ever comet"
Crimson" corrected grandma; mot
red But it mattered little to Dot
what the color was named when she
drew the bright stockings upon her
chubby legs and over them again pair
of shining new shoes.
You will be proud of these stock
ings," said grandma, on Saturday night,
as she rounded the toe with bit OF
white wool, because you helped me to