Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1891-01-17
RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME.
The Experience of a Boy Who Grew Dis.
satisfied with His Parents.

An apprecative audience assembled
at Plymouth Church to hear the famous
writer on Southern life, Richard Nal.
colin Johnston read selections from
his own works A double pleasure
awaited it, for James Whtcomb Riley
introduced Mr.. Johnston with story
told in his inimitable manner.
There was once a boy" Mr. Riley
said, ian aggrieyed, unappreciated
boy, who grew to dislike his own home
very much, and found his parents not
at all up to the standard of his require
meuts as a son and disciplinarian. He
brooded over the matter. and one
morning before breakfast climbed over
the back fence aud ran away. He
thought of the surprise and remorse Of
his parents when they discovered that
he had indeed gone, and he pictured
with rainbow coIors the place he would
make for himself in the world. He
would show his parents that he would
not brook their iIl-treatment, and that
he could get along better without them
than they could without him. Some
way this feeling OF exhiIaration died
b'th tlo INV tbu2F llOA NAV HOib Ols
There came a time when other boys
went home to dinner He raided a
neighboring orchard The afternoon
seemed endless. A knotted, rigid sort
of an aching spot came into his throat
that seemed to hurt worse when he
didn't notice it than when he did It
was very curious. sef-assertivs
oDiniOnated sort of a pain.
1T was nearly dark when the strug-
Gle WAS given up and the boy slowly
walked along the dusty road towards
home. When he reached the wood
pile he gathered up a load of wood and
carried it in with him. The hired girl
was washing the supper dishes but she
did not seem glad to see him, in fact,
did not seem to have noticed that he
had been away. He sauntered care
lessly into the pantry, bat the cup
board was locked He went out in the
back yard and washed his feet at the
rain-barrel. Everything seemed
pleasanter than it ever had before. The
irehies fitting among the grapevines,
the reflection Of the stars in the rain
barrel. were soothing to the tired boy.
Then he walked straight into the old
sitting-room, His father didn't look
mp from his paper; his mother was so
busy sewing she didn't notice his en-
trance.
He sat meeklv down on the edge OF
a chair. Why didn't somebody say
something? He was ready to be
scolded or punished, anything rather
lhan tins terrible silence If the clock
would only strike 1t would be a relief
He heard the boys shouting far down
the street, but had no desire to join
tbem-no, never again in the world.
lie just wanted to stay in of nights,
right there at home, always. He
coughed and moved to attract atten-
ton, but no one heard him nor looked.
up. He couldn't remember any prior
silence that at all approached it in
point Of such profundity of depth and
density Of hush. He felt that he him.
self must break it, Assuming an air
of careless naturalness and old-time
ease, he airily remarked:
II see you've got the same old cat
THAT boy Mr. Riley said, was
Richard Malcolm Johnston, in whose
heart still ahides a love for the simple
homes and tiresides Of the humblest Of
bis fellows indianapolis Na10S.