Year: 1878

4Aooo Sooo DoyS cue young. Inns
is beautiful provision Of nature.
When wo read n memoir of truly
good small boy, and think how un-
uttorably tedious he must have boon
and how much his parents must
have suffered from his incapacity to
thrill them with the crash of furni~
turc and the sweet music of the tin
horn, we can scarcely feel too thanks
full that he is securely buried.


Rev. Mr.. Sawyer, of West Brook
field, Vermont, possesses unique
treasure in tho person of small
boy whose inventive powers and
devotion to his parents have rarely
been parallcled.


In Northern Vermont that pecu-
liar form of n social outrage formerly
known as Il surprise party" but of
late commonly called q bulgarian
atrocity," is still lamentablv fire.
quent. On n cold evening in the
first week of the present month, Mr..
Sawyer and his family were soa ted
quietly by their social hearth, en-
Dying ono another's society. The
clergyman was reading aloud the
Bishops pastoral letter his wife
was busily calculating how to cut
up her husbands old overcoat so rs
to supply him with q new waistcoat,
herself with q new oyerskirt, and
Master Sawyer with now pair of
trousers, while that excellent small
boy was reading the improving
adventures Of al eminent pirate,
and wondering whether he would
ever be able to emulate them. Not
one Of tho family was prepared to
receive visitors. Mr.. Sawyer had
on his dressing gown and slippers
Mrs. Sawyer had let down her back
hair to give freedom to her mental
processes, and Master Sawyer had
temporarily slipped off his trousers
to supply his mother with pattern,
while she wrapped the hearth rug
about him. Suddenly, and without
the least warning, moro than four
dozen people of all kinds and sexes,
including men, women, reformers
and theological students, burst into
the room, carrying cake and dovas-
tatlon with them. Master SAWYER
iled bowling the clergyman pushed
back his spoctacles, and tried to
smile a ghastly smile and his
heroic wife, by hurriodly twisting
back her hair with both hands, ani
holding her comb between her teeth
managed to avoid uttering the vel
come which the invaders expected,
but which her conscience forbade
her to express.


The maraudcrs conducted them
selves after tho usual custom of
their kin i. They conversed with
one another with great hilarity,
ignoring the sutterings of the clergy
man and his wife. They spread
their cake upon the table, and
dovouring it without plates, scat
tered the crumbs over the new car
pet. One young man, having laid
a large piece of jelly cake on the
sofa, subsequently, sat down on it.
After having reduced the furniture
to that state Of grease that it was
no longer safe to sit down, tho
miscreants gathered around tho
piano and sang "What Shall the
Harvest Be 2" until Mr.. SAWYER,
mild rs he was, regretted that ho
could not take sharpe scythe and
reap an immediate and bloody har
vest.


While these blood-curdling out
RACES were in progress in tho parlor,
the good small boy kept himself
carefully out of the room. He was
not, however, wasting his time in
idle rage. He, too, heard the melo-
dious inquiries az to the harvest,
and remarked to himself that they
would find out all about tho harvest
If they would only wait few
minutes. Meanwhile, he was busily
engaged in carrying pals Of water
and emptying them on the front
steps and along tho walk leading
from the front door to the gate.
The night was cold, and the water
frozo fhpidly Under his admirable