New Ulm review. (New Ulm, Brown County, Minn.) 1892-1961, 1901-01-30

Well, If grandma had been slew in
winding the ball, it was more than she
was in lessening it again. How fast
her needles few! Early in the morn
ing. late at night, went on the knitting.
Dots eyes watched the progress of the
stockings, and her admiration was IN
bounded over their hue.
Red stoclies. 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
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
Eyes," assented the little one, with
proud air, wasn't I dood, grandma"
"And you so tired, too," went on
grandma, ignoring her question.
"And so nervous responded Dot.
eyes, and you called me a '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 your
drandma's wool?" she asked, soberly
None but what I 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, respondent in new at
tire. Grandma smiled grimly when she
returned with a perceptible limp in her
gait.
"Somefin' is hurtin' my heel" she in,
formed us at dinner, reluctantly.
Your new shoes. I 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, sometimes, for vanity's sake, en-
dured the torture the remainder of the
day.
Grandma said never word. Bed
time came, and with sigh of relief Dot
drew off her shoes.
Its in my stockie,'' said she, after
que examination; "theres two dreat
Dig knots in the heel.''
"knots?' echoed grandma.
There was no stupidity about our
bright Dot, and she understood all the
meaning conveyed in grandma's tone
and look at once.
''Knots of Impotence, Dot" could
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 bis
tered heel.
"Out of the WOOL perhaps" answered
grandma, earnestly, s'but not so easily
the knots when formed in the slxein of
character, Dot"
Several days after grandma beck
oned me to approach an open door.
Within could be heard the voices of
Dot, Willie and Rose. An alteration
was evidently in progress concerning
the destruction of a doll. In rocking
chair sat Dot with a pair of grandma's
spectacles upon her nose. Gravely she
peered over them at the flushed face of
Willie.
"Who broke dolly's head % she ques-
toned
"Rose!" answered he, promptly.
Dear, DEAR" exclaimed Dot, bending
forward, "such a snarl as you are det-
tin the sl1ein into, Willie!"
"What skein? ?" asked he. sullkily.
'sDid you or didn't you break dolly's
head?" she continued, without answer
ing his question.
mo, I didn't" this very emphatic
ally.
Mother knot in the skein." said
Dot, initiating grandma's tone and
manner to perfection, mother dreat
big knot, my child, 'cause-'cause saw
you do it,
An impressive silence, broken only
| by Willie's sniffles.
Keep on tellin' stories, Willie"
gravely went on the little monitor,
| ''and you'll det all tangled up like-like
a skein of wool when you let your hands
| drop. Then comes knots, and knots can
never be smooved out, never. They'll
| get knitted into your hide. my child,
and-diy' you a heap of torment. I
know!" and pushing the spectacles
back upon her head, Dot sank into
/ gentle reyerie, SO much like her grand
| ~, Il. -