The Climax-Madisonian. (Richmond, Madison County, Ky.) 1914-1917, 1915-05-26

II
Stoddard Anderson was the boys
name, though had you made inquiry
for Stoddard Anderson of any boy
of the town in which he lived-and
myself lived there, handy boy in the
dim old days-you doubtless would
have been informed that nobody of that
name lived there. Your juvenile in
formant, however, by way of gratui-
tous intelligence, might have gone
on to state that two families of An
dersons resided there-"Old Do-good"
Anderson, the preacher, and his
brother, John. But had you asked
for TOD" Anderson, or simply Tod"
your boy would have known Tod;
your boy, in all likelihood, would have
had especial reasons for remembering
Tod, although his modesty, perhaps.
might not allow him to inform you
how Tod had "waxed it to him more'n
onc't!" But he would have told you,
as tell you now, that Tod Anderson
was the preachers boy, and lived at
the parsonage. Tod was queer boy.
Stoddard Anderson was named in
honor of some obscure divine his ia
Their had joined church under when a
boy. 1t was a peculiar weakness of
the father to relate the experience
of his early conviction; and as he
never tired of repeating it, by way
of precept and admonition to the way
ward lambkins of his flock, Tod mas
tered its most intricate and sacred
phraseology, together even with the
fathers most religious formulas, to
degree of perfection that enabled him
to preside at mock meetings in the
hayloft, and offer the baptismal serv-
ice at the "swimmin' hole"
In point of personal or moral re-
semblance, Tod was in nowise like his
father. Some said he was the picture
of his mother, they who could remem-
Der her, for she fell asleep when Tod
was three days old, with her mother
arms locked around him so closely
that he cried, and they had to take
him away from her. No-Death had
taken her away from him.
1t needs now no chronicle to tell
how Tod thrived in spite of his great
loss, and how he grew to be big,
fat, two-fsted baby with double chin,
the pride and constant worry of the
dear old grandmother into whose care
he had fallen. 1t requires no space
in history's crowded page to tell how
he could stand up by chair when
eight months old, and crow and laugh
and doddle his little chubby arms
till he quite upset his balance, and,
pulling the chair down with him,
would laugh, and cry louder than
ever, and kick, and crawl, and sprawl,
and jabber; and never lift whimper
of distress but when being rocked to
to sleep. Let a babyhood of usual in
terest be inferred-then add a few
more years, and you will have the
Tod of ten knew.
o moral, saintlike and consistent
Christian, what is it in the souls of
little children so antagonistic to your
own sometimes? What is it in their
hayward and impulsive natures that
you cannot brook? And what strange
tincture of rebellious feeling is it that
embitters all the tenderness and love
you pour out so lavishly upon tLeir
stubborn and resentful hearts? Why
is it you so GENEROUSLY cherish the COM
mand divine, Children, obey your par
ents." and yet find no warm nook
within the breast for that old house
less truth that goes wailing through
the world:
A boys will is the winds will.
And the thoughts of youth are long, long
thoughts?
Tod went to school-the thriftless
Tod!-not wholly thriftless, either;
for, although he had not that apt way
of skimming like a swallow down the
placid rills of learning, he did pos
sess, in some mysterious strength, a
most extraordinary knack of acquiring
just such information as was not
taught at school, and had no place
within the busy hive of knowledge
Tod was a failure in arithmetic.
Tod couldn't tell twice ten from twice
eternity. Tod knew absolutely moth
ing of either Christopher Columbus
or the glorious country he discovered
expressly for the use of industry and
learning, as the teacher would have
had him implicitly believe. Tod
couldn't tell you anything of John
Smith, even, that very noted captain
who walks cheek by jowl with the
dusky Pocahontas across the illimita-
Bile fancy of the ten-year-old school
boy Of our glorious republic. Tod
knew all about the famous Captain
Kidd, however. In fact, Tod could
sing his history with more lively in
terest and real appreciation than his
fellow schoolmates sang geography.
The simple Tod once joined the geo.
graphical chorus with:
I'd Bible in my hand,
AS sailed. as sailed
And sunk her in the sand,
As I sailed.
And Tod-not Captain Kidd-had