The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Grocery Man And Peck's Bad Boy
Title: The Grocery Man And Peck's Bad Boy
Author: George W. Peck
Release date: May 16, 2008 [eBook #25488]
Most recently updated: February 24, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by David Widger
THE GROCERY MAN AND PECK'S BAD BOY.
Peck's Bad Boy and His Pa, No. 2
By George W. Peck
1883
Contents
List of Illustrations
|
Great God, Hanner, We Are Blowed Up The Old Man, the Hired Girl and The Goat The Minister and Deacons Salted |
DETAILED CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
VARIEGATED DOGS—THE BAD BOY SLEEPS ON THE ROOF—A MAN DOESN'T
KNOW EVERYTHING AT FORTY-EIGHT—THE OLD MAN WANTS SOME POLLYNURIOUS
WATER—THE DYER'S DOGS—PROCESSION OF THE DOGS—PINK, BLUE, GREEN AND
WHITE—“WELL, I'M DEM'd”—HIS PA DON'T APPRECIATE.
CHAPTER II.
HIS PA PLAYS JOKES—A MAN SHOULDN'T GET MAD AT A JOKE—THE MAGIC
BOUQUET—THE GROCERY MAN TAKES A TURN—HIS PA TRIES THE BOUQUET AT
CHURCH—ONE FOR THE OLD MAID—A FIGHT ENSUES—THE BAD BOY THREATENS THE
GROCERY man—A COMPROMISE.
CHAPTER III.
HIS PA STABBED—THE GROCERY MAN SETS A TRAP IN VAIN—A BOOM IN
LINIMENT—HIS PA GOES TO THE LANGTRY SHOW—THE BAD BOY TURNS
BURGLAR—THE OLD MAN STABBED—HIS ACCOUNT OF THE FRAY—A GOOD SINGLE
HANDED LIAR.
CHAPTER IV.
HIS PA BUSTED—THE CRAZE FOR MINING STOCK—WHAT'S A BILK?—THE PIOUS
BILK—THE OLD MAN INVESTS—THE DEACONS AND EVEN THE HIRED GIRLS
INVEST—HOT MAPLE SYRUP FOR ONE—GETTING A MAN'S MIND OFF HIS TROUBLES.
CHAPTER V.
HIS PA AND DYNAMITE—THE OLD MAN SELLING SILVER STOCK—FENIAN
SCARE—“DYNAMITE” IN MILWAUKEE—THE FENIAN BOOM—“GREAT GOD, MANNER!
WE ARE BLOWED UP!”—HIS MA HAS LOTS OF SAND—THE OLD MAN USELESS IN
TROUBLE—THE DOG AND THE FALSE TEETH
CHAPTER VI.
HIS PA AN ORANGEMAN—THE GROCERY MAN SHAMEFULLY ABUSED—HE GETS
HOT—BUTTER, OLEOMARGARINE AND AXLE GREASE—THE OLD MAN WEARS ORANGE
ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY—HE HAS TO RUN FOR HIS LIFE—THE BAD BOY AT SUNDAY
SCHOOL—INGERSOLL AND BEECHER VOTED OUT—MARY HAD A LAMB
CHAPTER VII.
HIS MA DECEIVES HIM—THE BAD BOY IN SEARCH OF SAFFRON—“WELL, IT'S A
GIRL, IF YOU MUST KNOW”—THE BAD BOY IS GRIEVED AT HIS MA'S DECEPTION—
“SH-H-H TOOTSY GO TO SLEEP”—“BY LOW, BABY”—THAT SETTLED IT WITH
THE CAT—A BABY! BAH! IT MAKES ME TIRED
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BABY AND THE GOAT. THE BAD BOY THINKS HIS SISTER WILL BE A FIRE
ENGINE—“OLD NUMBER TWO”—BABY REQUIRES GOAT MILK—? THE GOAT IS
FRISKY—TAKES TO EATING ROMAN CANDLES—THE OLD MAN, THE HIRED GIRL, AND
THE GOAT—THE BAD BOY BECOMES TELLER IN A LIVERY STABLE
CHAPTER IX.
A FUNERAL PROCESSION—THE BAD BOY ON CRUTCHES—“YOU OUGHT TO SEE THE
MINISTER”—AN ELEVEN DOLLAR FUNERAL—THE MINISTER TAKES THE LINES—AN
EARTHQUAKE—AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE WAS OVER—THE POLICEMAN FANS THE
MINISTER—A MINISTER SHOULD HAVE SENSE
CHAPTER X.
THE OLD MAN MAKES A SPEECH. THE GROCERY MAN AND THE BAD BOY HAVE
A FUSS—THE BOHEMIAN BAND—THE BAD BOY ORGANIZES A SERENADE—“BABY
MINE”—THE OLD MAN ELOQUENT—THE BOHEMIANS CREATE A FAMINE—THE Y. M. C.
A. ANNOUNCEMENT
CHAPTER XI.
GARDENING UNDER DIFFICULTIES—THE GROCERY MAN IS DECEIVED—THE BAD
BOY DON'T LIKE MOVING—GOES INTO THE COLORING BUSINESS—THE OLD MAN
THOROUGHLY DISGUSTED—UNCLE TOM AND TOPSY—THE OLD MAN ARRESTED—WHAT
THE GROCERY MAN THINKS—THE BAD BOY MORALIZES ON HIS FATE—RESOLVES TO
BE GOOD
CHAPTER XII.
THE OLD MAN SHOOTS THE MINISTER—THE BAD BOY TRIES TO LEAD A DIFFERENT
LIFE—MURDER IN THE AIR—THE OLD MAN AND HIS FRIENDS GIVE THEMSELVES
AWAY—DREADFUL STORIES OF THEIR WICKED YOUTH—THE CHICKEN COOP
INVADED—THE OLD MAN TO THE RESCUE—THE MINISTER AND THE DEACONS SALTED
CHAPTER XIII.
THE BAD BOY A THOROUGHBRED. THE BAD BOY WITH A BLACK EYE—A POOR
FRIENDLESS GIRL EXCITES HIS PITY—PROVES HIMSELF A GALLANT
KNIGHT—THE OLD MAN IS CHARMED AT HIS SON'S COURAGE—THE GROCERY MAN
MORALIZES—FIFTEEN CHRISTS IN MILWAUKEE—THE TABLES TURNED—THE OLD MAN
WEARS THE BOY'S OLD CLOTHES
CHAPTER XIV.
ENTERTAINING Y. M. C. A. DELEGATES—THE BAD BOY MINISTERS AT THE Y.
M. C. A. WATER FOUNTAIN—THE DELEGATES FLOOD THEMSELVES WITH SODA
WATER—TWO DELEGATES DEALT TO HIS MA—THE NIGHT KEY—THE FALL OF THE
FLOWER STAND—DELEGATES IN THE CELLAR ALL NIGHT—THE BAD BOY'S GIRL IS
WORKING HIS REFORMATION
CHAPTER XV.
HE TURNS SUPE. THE BAD BOY QUITS JERKING SODA—ENTERS THE DRAMATIC
PROFESSION—“WHAT'S A SUPER”—THE PRIVILEGES OF A SUPE'S FATHER—BEHIND
THE SCENES—THE BAD BOY HAS PLAYED WITH MC'CULLOUGH—“IWAS THE
POPULACE.”—PLAYS IT ON HIS SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER—“I PRITHEE, AU
RESERVOIR, I GO HENS!”
CHAPTER XVI.
UNCLE EZRA PAYS A VISIT. UNCLE EZRA CAUSES THE BAD BOY TO
BACKSLIDE—UNCLE EZRA AND THE OLD MAN WERE BAD PILLS—THEIR RECORD IS
AWFUL—KEEPING UNCLE EZRA ON THE RAGGED EDGE—THE BED SLATS FIXED—THE
OLD MAN TANGLED UP—THIS WORLD IS NOT RUN RIGHT—UNCLE EZRA MAKES HIM
TIRED
CHAPTER XVII.
HE DISCUSSES THEOLOGY. MEDITATIONS ON NOAH'S ARK—THE GARDEN OF
EDEN—THE ANCIENT DUDE—ADAM WITH A PLUG HAT ON—“I'M A THINKER FROM
THINKERSVILLE”—THE APOSTLES IN A PATROL WAGON—ELIJAH AND ELISHA—THE
PRODIGAL SON—A VEAL POT PIE FOR DINNER
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE DEPARTED ROOSTER. THE GROCERY MAN DISCOURSES ON DEATH—THE DEAD
ROOSTER—A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH—THE TENDERNESS BETWEEN THE ROOSTER
AND HIS FAITHFUL HEN—THE HEN RETIRES TO SET—THE CHICKENS—THE PROUD
ROOSTER DIES—THE FICKLE HEN FLIRTING IN INDECENT HASTE
CHAPTER XIX.
ONE MORE JOKE ON THE OLD MAN—UNCLE EZRA RETURNS—THE BASKET ON THE
STEPS—THE ANONYMOUS LETTER—“O, BROTHER THAT I SHOULD LIVE TO SEE THIS
DAY!”—AN UGLY DUTCH BABY—THE OLD MAN WHEELS THE BABY NOW—A FROG IN
THE OLD MAN'S BED
CHAPTER XX.
FOURTH OF JULY MISADVENTURES. TROUBLE IN THE PISTOL POCKET—THE GROCERY
MAN'S CAT THE BAD BOY A MINISTERING ANGEL—ASLEEP ON THE FOURTH OF
JULY—GOES WITH HIS GIRL TO THE SOLDIER'S HOME—TERRIBLE. FOURTH OF JULY
MISADVENTURES—THE GIRL WHO WENT OUT COMES BACK A BURNT OFFERING
CHAPTER XXI.
WORKING ON SUNDAY. TURNING A GRINDSTONE IS HEALTHY—“NOT ANY GRINDSTONE
FOR HENNERY!”—THIS HYPOCRISY IS PLAYED OUT—ANOTHER JOB ON THE OLD
MAN—HOW THE DAYS OF THE WEEK GOT MIXED—THE NUMEROUS FUNERALS—THE
MINISTER APPEARS—THE BAD BOY GOES OVER THE BACK FENCE
CHAPTER XXII.
THE OLD MAN AWFULLY BLOATED. THE OLD MAN BEGINS DRINKING AGAIN—THINKS
BETTING IS HARMLESS—HAD TO WALK HOME FROM CHICAGO—THE SPECTACLES
CHANGED—A SMALL SUIT OF CLOTHES—THE OLD MAN AWFULLY BLOATED—“HENNERY,
YOUR PA IS A MIGHTY SICK MAN”—THE SWELLING SUDDENLY GOES DOWN
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE GROCERY MAN AND THE GHOST. GHOSTS DON'T STEAL WORMY FIGS—A GRAND
REHEARSAL—THE MINISTER MURDERS HAMLET—THE WATER MELON KNIFE—THE OLD
MAN WANTED TO REHEARSE THE DRUNKEN SCENE IN RIP VAN WINKLE—NO HUGGING
ALLOWED—HAMLET WOULDN'T HAVE TWO GHOSTS—“HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE AN
IDIOT?”
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CRUEL WOMAN AND THE LUCKLESS DOG—THE BAD BOY WITH A DOG AND A BLACK
EYE—WHERE DID YOU STEAL HIM?—ANGELS DON'T BREAK DOGS' LEGS—A WOMAN
WHO BREAKS DOGS' LEGS HAS NO SHOW WITH ST. PETER—ANOTHER BURGLAR
SCARE—THE GROCERY DELIVERY MAN SCARED
CHAPTER XXV.
THE BAD BOY GROWS THOUGHTFUL—WHY IS LETTUCE LIKE A GIRL?—KING SOLOMON
A FOOL—THINK OF ANY SANE MAN HAVING A THOUSAND WIVES—HE WOULD HAVE
TO HAVE TWO HOTELS DURING VACATION—300 BLONDES—600 BRUNETTES, ETC.—A
THOUSAND WIVES TAKING ICE CREAM—“I DON'T ENVY SOLOMON HIS THOUSAND”
CHAPTER XXVI.
FARM EXPERIENCES. THE BAD BOY WORKS ON A FARM FOR A DEACON—HE KNOWS
WHEN HE HAS GOT ENOUGH—HOW THE DEACON MADE HIM FLAX AROUND—AND HOW HE
MADE IT WARM FOR THE DEACON
DRINKING CIDER IN THE CELLAR—THE DEACON WILL NOT ACCEPT HENNERY'S
RESIGNATION—HE WANTS BUTTER ON HIS PANCAKES—HIS CHUM JOINS HIM—THE
SKUNK IN THE CELLAR—THE POOR BOY GETS THE “AGER.”
CHAPTER I.
DOESN'T KNOW EVERYTHING AT FORTY-EIGHT—THE OLD MAN WANTS
SOME POLLYNURIOUS WATER—THE DYER'S DOGS—PROCESSION OP THE
DOGS—PINK, BLUE, GREEN AND WHITE—“WELL I'M DEM'D—HIS PA
DON'T APPRECIATE.
“How do you and your Pa get along now,” asked the grocery-man of the bad boy, as he leaned against the counter instead of sitting down on a stool while he bought a bottle of liniment.
“O, I don't know. He don't seem to appreciate me. What he ought to have is a deaf and dumb boy, with only one leg, and both arms broke—then he could enjoy a quiet life. But I am too gay for Pa, and you needn't be surprised if you never see me again. I talk of going off with a circus. Since I played the variegated dogs on Pa, there seems to have been a coldness in the family, and I sleep on the roof.
“Variegated dogs,” said the store keeper, “what kind of a game is that? You have not played another Daisy trick on your Pa, have you?”
“Oh, no, it was nothing of that kind. You know Pa thinks he is smart. He thinks because he is forty-eight years old he knows it all; but it don't seem to me as though a man of his age, that had sense, would let a tailor palm off on him a pair of pants so tight that he would have to use a button-hook to button them; but they can catch him on everything, just as though he was a kid smoking cigarettes. Well, you know Pa drinks some. That night the new club opened he came home pretty fruitful, and next morning his head ached so he said he would buy me a dog if I would go down town and get a bottle of pollynurious water for him. You know that dye house on Grand avenue, where they have got the four white spitz dogs. When I went after the penurious water, I noticed they had been coloring their dogs with the dye stuff, and I put up a job with the dye man's little boy to help me play it on Pa. They had one dog dyed pink, another blue, another red, and another green, and I told the boy I would treat him to ice cream if he would let one out at a time, when I came down with Pa, and call him in and let another out, and when we started to go away, to let them all out. What I wanted to do was to paralyze Pa, and make him think he had got 'em, got dogs the worst way. So, about ten o'clock when his head got cleared off, and his stomach got settled, he changed ends with his cuffs, and we came down town, and I told him I knew where he could get a splendid white spitz dog for me, for five dollars; and if he would get it, I would never do anything disrespectful again, and would just sit up nights to please him, and help him up stairs and get seltzer for him. So we went by the dye house, and just as I told him I didn't want anything but a white dog, the door opened, and the pink dog came out and barked at us, and I said 'that's him' and the boy called him back. Pa looked as though he had the colic, and his eyes stuck out, and he said 'Hennery, that is a pink dog?' and I said 'no, it is a white dog, Pa,' and just then the green dog came out, and I asked Pa if it wasn't a pretty white dog, and and he turned pale and said 'hell, boy, that is a green dog—what's got into the dogs?' I told him he must be color blind, and was feeling in my pocket for a strap to tie the dog, and telling him he must be careful of his health or he would see something worse than green dogs, when the green dog went in, and the blue dog came rushing out and barked at Pa. Well, Pa leaned against a tree box, and his eyes stuck out like stops on an organ, and the sweat was all over his face in drops as big as kernels of hominy.
“I think a boy ought to do everything he can to make it pleasant for his Pa, don't you. And yet some parents don't realize what a comfort a boy is. The blue dog was called in, and just as Pa wiped the perspiration off his forehead, and rubbed his eyes and put on his specks, the red maroon dog came out. Pa acted as if he was tired, and sat down on a horse block. Dogs do make some people tired, don't they? He took hold of my hand, and his hand trembled just as though he was putting a gun wad in the collection plate at church, and he said, 'My son, tell me truly, is that a red dog?'”
“A fellow has got to lie a little if he is going to have any fun with his Pa, and I told him it was a white dog, and I could get it for five dol-dars. He straightened up just as the dog went into the house, and said 'Well, I'm dem'd;' and just then the boy let all the dogs out and sicked them on a cat, which ran up a shade tree right near Pa, and they rushed all around us—the blue dog going between his legs, and the green dog trying to climb the tree, and the pink dog barking, and the red dog standing on his hind feet.
“Pa was weak as a cat, and told me to go right home with him, and he would buy me a bicycle. He asked me how many dogs there were, and what was the color of them. I s'pose I did awful wrong, but I told him there was only one dog, and a cat, and the dog was white.
“Well, sir, Pa acted just as he did the night Hancock was beat, and he had to have the doctor to give him something to quiet him (the time he wanted me to go right down town and buy a hundred rat traps, but the doctor said never mind, I needn't go). I took him home and Ma soaked his feet, and give him some ginger tea, and while I was gone after the doctor he asked Ma if she ever saw a green dog.
“That was what made all the trouble. If Ma had kept her mouth shut I would have been all right, but she up and told him that they had a green dog, and a blue dog, and all colors of spitz dogs down at the dyers. They dyed them just for an advertisement, and for him to be quiet and he would feel better when he got over it. Pa was all right when I got back and told him the doctor had gone to Wauwatosa, and I had left an order on his slate. Pa said he would leave an order on my slate. He took a harness tug and used it for breeching on me. I don't think a boy's Pa ought to wear a harness on his son, do you? He said he would learn me to play rainbow dogs on him. He said I was a liar, and he expected to see me wind up in Congress. Say, is Congress anything like Waupun or Sing Sing? No, I can't stay, thank you, I must go down to the office and tell Pa I have reformed, and freeze him out of a circus ticket. He is a a good enough man, only he don't appreciate a a boy that has got all the modern improvements. Pa and Ma are going to enter me in the Sunday school. I guess I'll take first money, don't you?”
And the bad boy went out with a visible limp, and a look of genius cramped for want of opportunity.
CHAPTER II.
MAGIC BOUQUET—THE GROCERY MAN TAKES A TURN—HIS PA TRIES
THE BOUQUET AT CHURCH—ONE FOR THE OLD MAID—A FIGHT ENSUES—
THE BAD BOY THREATENS THE GROCERY MAN—A COMPROMISE.
“Say, do you think a little practical joke does any hurt,” asked the bad boy of the grocery man, as he came in with his Sunday suit on, and a bouquet in his button-hole, and pried off a couple of figs from a new box that had been just opened.
“No sir,” said the groceryman, as he licked off the syrup that dripped from a quart measure, from which he had been filling a jug. “I hold that a man who gets mad at a practical joke, that is, one that does not injure him, is a fool, and he ought to be shunned by all decent people. That's a nice bouquet you have in your coat. What is it, pansies? Let me smell of it,” and the grocery man bent over in front of the boy to take a whiff at the bouquet. As he did so a stream of water shot out of the innocent looking bouquet and struck him full in the face, and run down over his shirt, and the grocery man yelled murder, and fell over a barrel of axe helves and scythe snaths, and then groped around for a towel to wipe his face.
“You condemn skunk,” said the grocery man to the boy, as he took up an axe-helve and started for him, “what kind of a golblasted squirt gun have you got there. I will maul you, by thunder,” and he rolled up his shirt sleeves.
“There, keep your temper. I took a test vote of you on the subject of practical jokes, before the machine began to play upon the conflagration that was raging on your whiskey nose, and you said a man that would get mad at a joke was a fool, and now I know it. Here, let me show it to you. There is a rubber hose runs from the bouquet, inside my coat to my pants pocket, and there is a bulb of rubber, that holds about half a pint, and when a feller smells of the posey, I squeeze the bulb, and you see the result. It's fun, where you don't squirt it on a person that gets mad.”
The grocery man said he would give the boy half a pound of figs if he would lend the bouquet to him for half an hour, to play it on a customer, and the boy fixed it on the grocery man, and turned the nozzle so it would squirt right back into the grocery man's face. He tried it on the first customer that come in, and got it right in his own face, and then the bulb in his pants pocket got to leaking, and the rest of the water ran down the grocery man's trouser's leg, and he gave it up in disgust, and handed it back to the boy.
“How was it your Pa had to be carried home from the sociable in a hack the other night?” asked the grocery man, as he stood close to the stove so his pants leg would dry. “He has not got to drinking again, has he?”
“O, no,” said the boy, as he filled the bulb with vinegar, to practice on his chum, “It was this bouquet that got Pa into the trouble. You see I got Pa to smell of it, and I just filled him chuck full of water. He got mad and called me all kinds of names, and said I was no good on earth, and I would fetch up in state's prison, and then he wanted to borrow it to wear to the sociable. He said he would have more fun than you could shake a stick at, and I asked him if he didn't think he would fetch up in state's prison, and he said it was different with a man. He said when a man played a joke there was a certain dignity about it that was lacking in a boy. So I lent it to him, and we all went to the sociable in the basement of the church. I never see Pa more kitteny than he was that night. He filled the bulb with ice water, and the first one he got to smell of his button-hole bouquet was an old maid who thinks Pa is a heathen, but she likes to be made something of by anybody that wears pants, and when Pa sidled up to her and began talking about what a great work the christian wimmen of the land were doing in educating the heathen, she felt real good, and then she noticed Pa's posey in his button-hole and she touched it, and then she reached over her beak to smell of it. Pa he squeezed the bulb, and about half a teacupful of water struck her right in the nose, and some went into her strangle place, and O, my, didn't she yell.”
“The sisters gathered around her, and they said her face was all covered with perspiration, and the paint was coming off, and they took her in the kitchen, and she told them Pa had slapped her with a dish of ice cream, and the wimmin told the minister and the deacons, and they went to Pa for a nexplanation, and Pa told them it was not so, and the minister got interested and got near Pa, and Pa let the water go at him, and hit him on the eye, and then a deacon got a dose, and Pa laughed; and then the minister who used to go to college, and be a hazer, and box, he got mad and squared off and hit Pa three times right by the eye, and one of the deacons kicked Pa, and Pa got mad and said he could clean out the whole shebang, and began to pull off his coat, when they bundled him out doors, and Ma got mad to see Pa abused, and she left the sociable, and I had to stay and eat ice cream and things for the whole family. Pa says that settles it with him. He says they haven't got any more christian charity in that church than they have in a tannery. His eyes are just getting over being black from the sparring lessons, and now he has got to go through oysters and beef-steak cure again. He says it is all owing to me.”
“Well, what has all this got to do with your putting up signs in front of my store, 'Rotten Eggs,' and 'Frowy Butter a specialty,' said the grocery man as he took the boy by the ear and pulled him around. You have got an idea you are smart, and I want you to keep away from here. The next time I catch you in here I shall call the police and have you pulled. Now git!”
The boy pulled his ear back on the side of his head where it belonged, took out a cigarette and lit it, and after puffing smoke in the face of the grocery cat that was sleeping on the cover to the sugar barrel he said:
“If I was a provision pirate that never sold anything but what was spoiled so it couldn't be sold in a first class store, who cheated in weights and measures, who bought only wormy figs and decayed cod-fish, who got his butter from a fat rendering establishment, his cider from a vinegar factory, and his sugar from a glucose factory, I would not insult the son of one of the finest families. Why, sir, I could go out on the corner, and when I saw customers coming here, I could tell a story that would turn their stomachs, and send them to the grocery on the next corner. Suppose I should tell them that the cat sleeps in the dried apple barrel, that the mice made nests in the prune box, and rats run riot through the raisins, and that you never wash your hands except on Decoration day and Christmas, that you wipe your nose on your shirt sleeves, and that you have the itch, do you think your business would be improved? Suppose I should tell the customers that you buy sour kraut of a wood-en-shoed Polacker, who makes it of pieces of cabbage that he gets by gathering swill, and sell that stuff to respectable people, could you pay your rent? If I should tell them that you put lozengers in the collection plate at church, and charge the minister forty cents a pound for oleomargarine, you would have to close up. Old man, I am onto you, and now you apologize for pulling my ear.”
The grocery man turned pale during the recital, and finally said the bad boy was one of the best little fellows in this town, and the boy went out and hung up a sign in front:—
TO COOK
CHAPTER III.
IN LINIMENT—HIS PA GOES TO THE LANGTRY SHOW—THE BAD BOY
TURNS BURGLAR—THE OLD MAN STABBED—HIS ACCOUNT OF THE FRAY—
A GOOD SINGLE HANDED LIAR.
“I hear you had burglars over to your house last night,” said the grocery man to the bad boy, as he came in and sat on the counter right over a little gimlet hole, where the grocery man had fixed a darning needle so that by pulling a string the needle would fly up through the hole and run into the boy about an inch. The grocery man had been laying for the boy about two days, and now that he had got him right over the hole the first time, it made him laugh to think how he would make him jump and yell, and as he edged off and got hold of the string the boy looked unconscious of impending danger. The grocery man pulled, and the boy sat still. He pulled again, and again, and finally the boy said:
“Yes, it is reported that we had burglars over there. O, you needn't pull that string any more. I heard you was setting a trap for me, and I put a piece of board inside my pants, and thought I would let you exercise yourself. Go ahead if it amuses you. It don't hurt me.”
The grocery man looked sad, and then smiled a sickly sort of a smile, at the failure of his plan to puncture the boy, and then he said, “Well, how was it? The policeman didn't seem to know much about the particulars. He said there was so much deviltry going on at your house that nobody could tell when anything was serious, and he was inclined to think it was a put up job.”
“Now let's have an understanding,” says the boy. “Whatever I say, you are not to give me away. It's a go, is it? I have always been afraid of you, because you have a sort of decayed egg look about you. You are like a peck of potatoes with the big ones on top, a sort of a strawberry box, with the bottom raised up, so I have thought you would go back on a fellow. But if you won't give this away, here goes. You see, I heard Ma tell Pa to bring up another bottle of liniment last night. When Ma corks herself, or has a pain anywhere, she just uses liniment for all that is out, and a pint bottle don't last more than a week. Well, I told my chum, and we laid for Pa. This liniment Ma uses is offul hot, and almost blisters. Pa went to the Langtry show, and did not get home till eleven o'clock, and me and my chum decided to teach Pa a lesson. I don't think it is right for a man to go to the theaters and not take his wife or his little boy.
“So we concluded to burgle Pa. We agreed to lay on the stairs, and when he came up my chum was to hit him on the head with a dried bladder, and I was to stab him on his breast pocket with a stick, and break the liniment bottle, and make him think he was killed.
“It couldn't have worked better if we had rehearsed it. We had talked about burglars at supper time, and got Pa nervous, so when he came up stairs and was hit on the head with the bladder, the first thing he said was 'Burglars, by mighty,' and he started to go back, and I hit him on the breast pocket, where the bottle was, and then we rushed by him, down stairs, and I said in a stage whisper, 'I guess he's a dead man,' and we went down cellar and up the back stairs to my room and undressed.”
“Pa hollered to Ma that he was murdered, and Ma called me, and I came down in my night-shirt, and the hired girl she came down, and Pa was on the lounge, and he said his life-blood was fast ebbing away. He held his hand on the wound, and said he could feel the warm blood trickling clear down to his boots. I told Pa to stuff some tar into the wound, such as he told me to put on my lip to make my mustache grow, and Pa said, 'My boy, this is no time for trifling. Your Pa is on his last legs. When I came up stairs I met six burglars, and I attacked them, and forced four of them down, and was going to hold them and send for the police, when two more, that I did not know about, jumped on me, and I was getting the best of them when one of them struck me over the head with a crowbar, and the other stabbed me to the heart with a butcher knife. I have received my death wound, my boy, and my hot southern blood, that I offered up so freely for my country in her time of need, is passing from my body, and soon your Pa will be only a piece of poor clay. Get some ice and put on my stomach, and all the way down, for I am burning up.' I went to the-water pitcher and got a chunk of ice and put inside Pa's shirt, and while Ma was tearing up an old skirt to stop the flow of blood, I asked Pa if he felt better, and if he could describe the villains who had murdered him. Pa gasped and moved his legs to get them cool from the clotted blood, he said, and he went on, 'One of them was about six foot high, and had a sandy mustache. I got him down and hit him on the nose, and if the police find him, his nose will be broke. The second one was thick set, and weighed about two hundred. I had him down, and my boot was on his neck, and I was knocking two more down when I was hit. The thick set one will have the mark of boot heels on his throat. Tell the police when I'm gone, about the boot heel marks.'
“By this time Ma had got the skirt tore up, and she stuffed it under Pa's shirt, right where he said he was hit, and Pa was telling us what to do to settle his estate, when Ma began to smell the liniment, and she found the broken bottle in his pocket, and searched Pa for the place where he was stabbed, and then she began to laugh, and Pa got mad and said he didn't see as a death-bed scene was such an almighty funny affair; and then she told him he was not hurt, but that he had fallen on the stairs and broke his bottle, and that there was no blood on him, and he said, 'do you mean to tell me my body and legs are not bathed in human gore?' and then Pa got up and found it was only the liniment. He got mad and asked Ma why she didn't fly around and get something to take that liniment off his legs, as it was eating them right through to the bone; and then he saw my chum put his head in the door, with one gallus hanging down, and Pa looked at me, and then he said, 'Lookahere, if I find out it was you boys that put up this job on me, I'll make it so hot for you that you will think liniment is ice cream in comparison.' I told Pa it didn't look reasonable that me and my chum could be six burglars, six feet high, with our noses broke, and boot-heel marks on our neck, and Pa, he said for us to go to bed alfired quick, and give him a chance to rinse of that liniment, and we retired. Say, how does my Pa strike you as a good, single-handed liar?” and the boy went up to the counter, while the grocery man went after a scuttle of coal.
In the meantime, one of the grocery man's best customers—a deacon in the church—had come in and sat down on the counter, over the darning needle, and as the grocery man came in with the coal, the boy pulled the string, and went out door and tipped over a basket of rutabagas, while the deacon got down off the counter with his hand clasped, and anger in every feature, and told the grocery man he could whip him in two minutes. The grocery man asked what was the matter, and the deacon hunted up the source from whence the darning needle came through the counter, and as the boy went across the street, the deacon and the grocery man were rolling on the floor, the grocery man trying to hold the deacon's fists while he explained about the darning needle, and that it was intended for the boy. How it came out the boy did not wait to see.