The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1901-03-07


the future from sterner ones"
The old lady's favorite expression, "I
know" played about her firmly
closed lips, but she gave no utterance
to them as with ball in hand she sat
gazing upon the pictures of the past
pictures whose lights and shadows
were reflected in her own dim eyes,
in the fitting smile upon brow or lip.
Well, if grandma had been slow in
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 come!"
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 a
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
wind the wool. you know, Dot
"Yes," assented the little one, with a
proud air, wasn't l dood, grandma?''
"And you SO tired, too,' went on
grandma, ignoring her question.
"And so nervous" responded Dot.
eyes, and you called me 'zasperat-
in old poke "gravely answered grand,
ma, "and snapped the thread on pur.
pose to make me give over the wind
ing
Dot opened wide her eyes.
"How did you know that?" she quer.
led. "Now don't say little bird told
you, Grandma, cause Use tired to deaf
hearin' that story"
"Never mind how knew, Dot. The
fact remains that there were knots in
my fair ball of wool, and knots, you
know, can never be Strengthened out
never!"
Dot looked at her grandma refec-
lively.
Didn't you ever make knots in you,
drandma's wool?'' she asked, soberly
"None but what l had to pay for" re.
piled the old lady, suppressing smile
Knots are troublesome things, Dot, as
you may find out before you are many
days older"
Off to Sunday school hied Dot the
next morning, resplendent in new at
tire. Grandma smiled grimly when she
returned with a perceptible limp in hel
gait.
"Somefin' is hurtin' my heel" she in
formed us at dinner, reluctantly.
'Your new shoes. suppose sug
gested her mother, ''you had best take
them off and put on your old ones"
But Dot demurred. and like her eld
ers, ometimes. for vanity's sake, en-
| dured the torture the remainder of the
| day.
Grandma said never word. Bed
time came, and with a sigh of relief Dol
drew off her shoes.
'It's in my stockie," said she, after
| due examination; there's two drea
| pig knots in the heel
"Knots?' echoed grandma.
There was no stupidity about ou1
bright Dot, and she understood all th'
meaning conveyed in grandma's tom
and look at once.
Knots of impatience, Dot" 1 coult
not refrain from saying, ''for which
you have suffered all day long"
"And undutifulness," added grand
ma, "and covert untruthfulness."
| Dot turned the color of her stock
ings.
"You might have smooved 'em out,
she said, carefully examining her bills
tered heel.
"Out of the wool, perhaps" answered
grandma, earnestly, 'but not so easil.
the knots when formed in the skein o
| character. Dot"
| Several days after grandma beck
oned me to approach an open door
Within could be heard the voices o
Dot, Willie and Rose. An altercatiol
was evidently in progress concernin!
the destruction of doll. In rocking
chair sat Dot with pair of grandma
| spectacles upon her nose. Gravely sh
| peered over them at the flushed face O
Willie.
"Who broke dolly's head?' she ques
| toned.
"Rose!" answered he, promptly.
"Dear, DEAR" exclaimed Dot, bendin!
| forward, ''such a snarl as you are det
tin the skein into, Willie!"
| "What skein ?" asked he, sulkily.
did you or didn't you break dolly
head ?" she continued, without answer
ing his question.
mo, l didn't" this very emphatic
ally.
"'Nother knot in the skein." sal
Dot, initiating grandma's tone an
manner to perfection, mother drea
big knot. my child, 'cause-'causeI sa,
you do it,
An Impressive silence, broken onl
by Willie's sniffles.
Keep on tellin' stories, Willie,
gravely went on the little monitor
"and you'll det all tangled up like-lik
a skein of wool when you let your hand
| drop. Then comes knots, and knots ca