The Prescott daily news., 1908-03-05
THE EDGE OF THINGS
By FRANCIS B. L. HOWE


 Copyright. 1907. by Daily Story Pub Col Theodore sat o1 the wall that di. vided the lawn and the kitchen gar den and kicked his heels viciously against the unresponsive stone. They were small feet but they kicked with an energy quite out of proportion. Dore surveyed them with rueful satis- faction, noting with a fierce delight green stains had appeared on his white trousers. In short Theodore was looking on the world and its vain at fractions through glass darkly."
 The red setter came bounding across the lawn to the forlorn little figure on the wayside wall, his flaming red flag of tail hoisted to the breeze.
 The boys only greeting was pull at the glossy coat of such astounding energy as to bring forth yelp of wounded pride.
 Dore's arms were about his neck as he said: "'Scuse me, Reddy, l only wanted to see If you was per tend too," then. with deep sigh, T guess me and you is the only really things around here"
 Yesterday, oh fateful day, Dore had learned a lesson that had straightway clouded his fair sky, and since which he had looked out on the world l through earnest brown eyes which never before had held look of un- belief.
 He had mentioned casually, in the | tone one can afford to adopt when one possesses a young and beautiful aunt, that his Aunt Eleanor was going to take him to ride behind her bran new [ ponies An she aint never rode be- hind them herself yet" he added, proudly.
 To which Batty Jones had scornfully replied: "Aw, what yer givin' us? She ain't no more your aunt than she Is mine I could call her aunt too 1 If l liked. My ma said so an she i knows cause my pa uster be coach man fer them fore he come here
 That night after silent tea In the nursery Dore walked upstairs. un- ! dressed and crawled into bed before Mary had chance to help him.
 Did you say your prayers, Master Theodore she. asked.
 "No," said Dore, soberly.
 Well come and say them now that's good boy. so Mary can SC l downstairs"
 Then 1t was that Master Theodore, standing as erect as downy mattress on jumpy springs would let him, and holding tightly to the head board Of his little brass bed replied: Il shall proberly never say my prayers again. Mary, so please don't speak of It. There isn't any Aunt Eleanor-there isn't any Santa Claus and how do know there's any Cod?
 Then he lay down and pulled the covers up snugly while the deeply shocked Mary rushed from the room fumbling her beads, too perturbed to hear the boys Goodnight, Mary: hope you will sleep well" for ha al ways remembered his manners. did 
 this little chap.
 For a long time he lay very quiet thinking it all out. He wasn't hurt ing anyone by believing these things and they made him happy. What business had anyone to tell him? Then his mind would fill with righteous wrath but his sturdy little spirit at last asserted itself and as he fell asleep he muttered: I'm glad know. anyhow. 1 don't want to b'lieve pertends
 still there were tears on his cheek for his dear Aunt Eleanor, the sweet est illusion of them all, and he sleep ily hoped that Batty Jones would not call her "auntie," even if he could if he had mind to.
 All that was last night. This morn ing he was not quite sure whether he was glad he knew or not.
 First he thought he would go away out of sight of the road where the enchanting pony cart would not be visible to eyes that somehow would watch in spite of their determination not to. Then he dug his heels more tightly into the crevices of the wall and decided to stay right where he was. so close to the road that he could almost shake hands with those who passed. a
 All this was of courseY perplexing. but the problem that made the deep est wrinkles in the boys forehead was what to say to this whilom "Auntie" when she appeared
 Clearly he could not tell her that he