Whereupon the little imp pushed his fat fist straight
into my eye, to his father's intense satisfaction.
Fust-rate little chap,--said the papa.--Chip of the old block. Regl'r
little Johnny, you know.
I was so much pleased to find the young fellow settled in life, and
pushing about one of "them little articles" he had seemed to want so
much, that I took my "punishment" at the hands of the infant pugilist
with great equanimity.--And how is the old boarding-house?--I asked.
A 1,--he answered.--Painted and papered as good as new. Gabs in all the
rooms up to the skyparlors. Old woman's layin' up money, they say.
Means to send Ben Franklin to college. Just then the first bell rang for
church, and my friend, who, I understand, has become a most exemplary
member of society, said he must be off to get ready for meetin', and told
the young one to "shake dada," which he did with his closed fist, in a
somewhat menacing manner. And so the young man John, as we used to call
him, took the pole of the miniature carriage, and pushed the small
pugilist before him homewards, followed, in a somewhat leisurely way, by
his pleasant-looking lady-companion, and I sent a sigh and a smile after
him.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470