The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1904-02-21

distasteful than is the morning rule to wash
his ears before breakfast. No convict loveth
his stripes less than he the outer protection
provided by parental love against pneumo-
mia, and as his eyes are always bright with
health and his cheeks show the red of good
rich blood the question of wearing the dis
tasteful garment is simply a question of
authority. Perhaps in other households
where there is a boy of Harold's type the
siege of the overcoat may be recognized
1t usually takes place in something after
this fashion,:
1t is a fine, swapping winter morning
without, with the sunshine drawing sparks
from everything it touches. He gets out of
bed and goes to the window in his pajamas;
though. owing to a sulkiness of the furnace.
the atmosphere of the room may be below
freezing. his mother finds him there in his
bare feet, writing his name on the frosted
window pane with his finger nail He thus
greetS her:
Mother do have to wear an overcoat
to-day?'
Eyes, dear"
That's the way 1 always have TO wear
an overcoat when none of the other boys
do"
He suIks over it while he dresses himself,
coming downstairs with a clatter of ban
ister-slidng shoes and an anything but
happy expression upon his face. He eats
his breakfast in silence, his eyes earnestly
upon MS 1dtner IdCes IDeil--
Father, do l have to wear an overcoat
this morning."
Certainly, Harold"
That's the wayl | wonder why I'm al
ways having to do things none OF the other
boys has to do. Father, did you wear an
overcoat when you was boy?"
Ehl Yes, my son, always"
did you want top
Il don't remember, Harold. But certainly
| l am sure that if my parents told me to do
| a thing was dutiful enough not to tease
IIarn
smiles a curious little smile to herself. She
looks as though she were about TO speak,
then looks at her son and thinks better
| of il.
But" Harold insinuates, cit isn't cold
/ a teeny weeny bit. L looked at the Their
mometer and It's its one above. Father, do
"Didn't l tell you, Harold. that you
| musti"
| never make my kids wear overcOatsi'
| Grandmamma wipes smile hastily away
| with her napkin, mother looks at him re-
| provingly. but Harold sulks and kicks his
| heels on the floor. He watches the pru-
| dent paternal preparations for the snap
| ping cold without and listens discOnsolately
| at the last command at the doOr-that
| Harold shall be properly overcOated before
| he leaves for school,
! Fifteen minutes later Harold has his
school books under his arm; he is pulling
| his cap down over his ears he turns his
| face up to his mother. Mother" he says
softly. do L have to wear overcoat-
| really?
Harold, dear, 1 do not want you to
| tease"
But grown folks always feel cold more
| than boys do. 1t may be cold to YOU, but
! it's lust as warm as feathers to me out
| doors. All us boys are going to take our
| sleds and you can't hook onto wagons in an
| overcOat'
I'm sorry, Harold. but this severe cold
will be over in day or two. Do be good
| boy"
None of the other boys do-none except
| Tommy Boomer and Evert Gerten, and
/ Tommy has the sore throat awful and
| Evert is Just getting well of the measles"
| but, Harold. child. you will be i'll if you
/ go out no warmer clothed than you are in
| the house"
mo. | won't, really. Boys don't take
| cold like grown folks Please, mother, may
/ l SOP
lie stands with his hand on the door
! knob: his sweater is rolled up around his
ears to meet mis- cap and his Norfolk is
buttoned tightly over his 1.-THE little torso.
| He certainly does look sturdy enough to
! defy the elements he scoTns, ana. as she
i looks at him she remembers how he came
| whirling in last evening. his eyes shining.
| his fingers icy, declaring he was not cold
when even within doors the full blast of the
| furnace could make II barely comfortable.