News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1915-09-22

nous snauow, IaI.siiiilg WCsiWji.t
4 over its surface, marked the dawn OF
his twelfth birthday.
TO be twelve is an attainment wortl
the struggle. A boy, just twelve, is
like Frenchman just elected to the
academy.
Distinction and honor wait upon him
Younger boys show Difference to per
son of twelve. His experience is guar
anteed. hia Judgment, therefore, mel
low; consequently his influence is pro
found. Eleven is not quite Satisfac-
tory. 1t is only an approach. Eleven
has the disadvantage of six, OF nine
teen, of forty-four and of siXty-nine.
But, like twelve, seven is an honorable
age. and the ambition to attain it is
laudable. People look forward to be-
ing seven. Similarly, twenty Is worthy,
and so, aretraiily, is twenty-one; for
ty-five has great sOlidity; seventy is
most commendab.e and each year
thereafter an increasing honor Thir-
teen is embarrassed by the beginnings
of a new colthood. The child becomes
q youth. But twelve is the very top of
boyhood.
Dressing that morning, Penrod felt
| that the world was changed from the
world of yesterday. For one thing, he
! seemed to own more of it. This day
was his day. And it was a day worth
owning. The midsummer sunshine,
pouring gold through his window, came
from cool sky, and breeze moved
pleasantly in his hair as he leaned
from the sill to watch the tribe CT
chattering blackbirds take wing, fol
lowing their leader from the trees In
the yard to the days work in the open
country. The blackbirds were his, as
the sunshine and the breeze were his,
for they all belonged to the day which
was his birthday and therefore most
surely his. Pride suffused him. He
was twelve!
His father and his mother and Mar
garet seemed to understand the differ
ence between today and yesterday.
They We're at the table when he de-
scended, and they gave him greeting
which of itself marked the milestone.
Habitually his entrance into a room
where his elders sat brought a cloud of
apprehension. They were prone to
look up in pathetic expectancy, as If
their thought was, "What new awful
ness is he going to start now?" But
this morning they laughed. His moth
er rose and kissed him twelve times.
So did Margaret. And his father
shouted: "Well, well! How's the
MANI
Then his mother gave him a Bible
and THE Vicar Of Wakefield" Marga-
ret gave him a pair Of silver mounted
hairbrushes, and his father gave him a
Pocket Atlas" and Il small compass.
And now, Penrod,' said his mother
after breakfast, I'm going to take you
out in the country to pay your birth
day respects to Aunt Sarah Grim
Aunt Sarah Grim, Periods great
aunt, was his oldest living relative.
She was ninety, and when Mrs. Scho-
field and PenrOd alighted from car
riaSe at her gate they found her dig
ging with a spade in the garden.
"I'm glad you brought him." she said,
desisting from labor. "Jinny's bak-
ing a cake I'm going to send for his
birthday party. Bring him in the
house = I've got something for him."
she led the way to her sitting room,"
which had pleasant smell, unlike any
other smell, and opening the drawer of |
n shining old whatnot took therefrom |
n boys "slingshOt," made of forked |
stick, two strips of rubber and a bit |
of leather.
This isn't for you" she said, plac- I
ing it in Penrod's eager hand mo. |
1t would break all to pieces the first
time YOU tried to shoot it because 1t Ia
thirty-five years old. l want to send !
1t back to your father l think it's
time. You give it to him from me and
tell him l say l believe / can trust
him with it now. l took it away from
him thirty-tive years ago, one day aft
er he'd killed my best hen with it ac-
and broken a glass pitcher
on the back porch with it-accidental-
ly. He doesn't look like person
who's ever done things of that sort.
and l suppose he's forgotten it so
well that he believes he never did, but
IL you give it to him from me think
hell remember. You look like him,
Penrod. He was anything but hand
some boy"
After this final bit of "Reminiscences
designed to be repeated TO
Mr.. Schofield-she disappeared in the
direction of the kitchen and returned
with a pitcher of lemopade and blue
lima dish sweetly freighted with fat
ginger cookies of a composition that
vas her own secret. Then, having set
his collation. before her guests, she
presented Penrod with a superb, in
ricate and very modern machine Of
destructive capacities almost limitless.
She called it pocketknife.
II suppose you'll do something hor-
'ible with it," she said composedly.
L hear you do that with everything,
anyhow, 50 you might as well do ii
With this and have more fun out of it.
they tell me you're the worst boy in
own"