Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1896-03-04
JUST ABOUT A BOY.
A Brooklyn Lads Predicament and What
a Lie He Told Cost Him.

a Lie He Told Cost Him.
The boys in the lower part of Van
Buren, street, Brooklyn, just off
Tompkins park, have been building
bonfres. Frame houses line the
street on both sides, and the resi-
dents have complained to the police
of the danger to them from fire. One
of the boys had had strict orders
from his father never to share in
the building of these fires, and, be-
ing an obedient boy, he never col
lected the material for the fire or
contributed the matches. His IA
ther had not forbidden him, howev-
er, to furnish some raw potatoes for
feast by baking them in the en-
bers.
Tt was this consciousness of inno-
cence that made the boy stand when
policeman hove in sight around
the corner the other day All the
other lads skedaddled. The police
man came up with stride.
Did you build this fire?"
"No, SIR" said the lad without
the least show of fear. The police
man began to respect him, but it
would not do to relax his severity.
Neutrality-suspicious." he said
sternly, and running his words all
together to impress the boy.
The boy began to see that the
presence of the potato was prima
facie evidence in the policeman's
eyes of guilt, but he was still con-
scious of innocence, and he replied
frankly:
just potato.
"Whatyergointodowithit?"
The full gravity of the situation
now dawned upon the boys mind,
and under the sternness of the po-
liceman he saw that something had
to be done. Visions of the jail that
every boy breads had begun to float
before his eyes, and he made an eff
fort to resort to desperate means.
sob, I'm going to eat it. .
DO you eat raw potatoes?" said
the policeman, relaxing a little and
not running his words together in
terrifying way. His manner gave
the lad a hope, and he replied with
a cordiality that secretly amused the
cop, but the end of which the lad
could not foresee.
"Oh, yes, / eat 'em. You see, I
like EN-"
Where do you live?" asked the
cop, turning his head to hide a
smile. The boy told him, and boy
and cop went over to basement
door. To the servant who answered
the ring the policeman said:
docs this boy live here?"
eyes. sir. y
'Well, now, then very sternly), I
charge you on your honor, tell me
truly, does this boy eat raw pota-
toes?"
The policeman was nearly burst
ing with laughter. and the servant
stood there in blank astonishment.
The boy was wildly desperate. He
was surely booked for jail, all be-
cause he had been honest enough not
to run when the policeman came.
The only one who could save him
was that servant. He must give her
tip, and quick as flash he spoke
before the girl could ask the police
man what he meant:
"Oh, yes, you know eat 'em,
don't you? Why, you can both see
for yourselves. I like 'em. I eat
'em, skins and all. .
Then the boy smashed his teeth
into the potato, and that Brooklyn
cop was mean enough to stand there
and make the boy eat half of it.
The cop could endure it no longer,
and with a laugh said:
''See here, youngster, if I catch
you eating any more of them things
I'll send you up sure. And then
he rolled off
The worst of the experience to
that boy was not his fright nor the
lecture his father gave him to the
effect that it would have been better
to tell the truth all the way through,
even after he became scared, nor the
inconvenience the raw potato caused
him, but the fact that since then
when he turns up his nose at some
dish at the table his parent says:
'Well, I guess that any boy who
likes raw potatoes can eat that dish
or go without. .
All of which illustrates the truth
of the fact that sometimes, especial
~ for boys, it does not pay to tell
ie.-New York Sun.
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