Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1900-02-01
SAMMY'S QUIET DAY
A BRIEF OUTLINE OF A FlVE-YEAR.
OLD'S DOINGS.
The Writer of the Narrative Claims
1t Has No Moral, but the Careful
Reader VIII Surely BE Able TO Dis

1t Has No Moral, hut the Careful
Reader VIII Surely BE Able to Dis
cover One
Until his father started for the Office
little Sammy was demure, quiet and a
model 5-year-old from every point of
view. His father had barely got out Of
the front gate, however, before he began
by throwing the cat up among the ivy at
the side of the house. He was of an ex-
perimental turn Of mind, and he wanted
to see II the cat would stick there. The
cat did stick there, and little Sammy
was p~rodding the cat with a broom han
die when his mother saw him. He de-
clined to come in" when she invited him
to do so, and she had to go after him.
He kicked her in the shins all the way
in and howled like a Kickapoo.
Ten minutes later he was out in front,
"jumpin street cars" against many SOL
emn orders. He was brought in, bIub-
bering, by a neighbor. His nose was
much skinned. His roars could be heard
a block. His mother vaselined and pet
ted him for half an hour and then turn
ed him loose again. The cook had a
bucket of -four on a chair beside the
kitchen table, preparatory to making
bread. Little Sammy got a yearning
to observe the coalescent properties Of
-four and water, so he dumped the ba-
sin of water that he got from beneath
the refrigerator into the bucket Of -four.
The cook, who had been in the back
yard, caught him in the act and dragged
him to his mother. The cook was Sc
verely kicked on the shins and bitten on
the hand all the way.
"Now, Sammy" said his mother. with
grave reproach.
Ten minutes later Sammy was discov.
cred in the act Of painting his baby sis
ter's nose green and yellow and red and
purple with a toy brush and set Of colors
that belonged to his outfit Of playthings.
Sammy, my precious, why will you do
such naughty things" inquired his moth
err, feeling of her aching head.
Awhile later, happening to pass
through the sitting room. his mother
found little Sammy industriously engag-
ed in cutting the buttons from the sur
face of the leather couch with a case
knife.
Sammy" said she, solemnly, II shall
Bpuuh SOu IL ever L CdlCu Sou uOIlS nuSu
a thing again."
When a woman friend called upon her
just before luncheon, clad in a handsome
white and black foulard dress, little Sam
my saw his opportunity. He sneaked
back to the kitchen, got hold of a damp
stick of stove polish. crept up on his
mothers visitor with an innocent express
sion Of c%ountenance and, suddenly reach
ing out, dabbed several big splotches of
stove polish on the foulard dress.
"Why, Sammy Sleevelinks, aren't you
ashamed Of yourself?" exclaimed his
mother, while Sammy, bursting with joy,
made for the back yard, and her visitors
face screwed up into a tight expression
that plainly said, "Oh, l wouldn't do a
thing to that one il l owned him."
After luncheon little Sammy tried a lit
tie experiment with his guinea pig. He
tied a piece of rope around the guinea
pigs neck, filled a baby's bathtub with
in. The guinea pig was only three parts
dead from drowning when little Sammy's
mother nailed him. ,
"Aren't you a bit sorry for the poor lit
tie piggy" she asked Sammy.
The above is only the merest outline Of
little Sammy's deviltries during the day.
He was demure and sweet and a quiet
angel child. in his nice little white duck
sailor suit, when his father got home
that evening from the Office. He played
around with the beautiful innocence Of
angel childhood while his father and
mother sat in the front yard after dinner.
As thus they sat there two little 5-year-
old boys across the street, next door
neighbors, got to belaboring each other
and yelling.
"I'd just like to have the handling Of
those whelps of kids for about "a hours"
said little Sammy's father to little Sam
my's mother.
SWELL, thank goodness gracious, our
little Sammy isn't like Them" said little
Sammy's mother. Hes mammals bless
ed little angel, that's what he is, and he
gives mamma no more trouble than
ETC., etc.
Moral.-There isn't any.-Washington
Star.