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Show THE WAY OF BOYS. (Catholic News.) He was about 7 years old and his bedtime had come. His mother took him on her lap and began to undress him. He yawned and stretched wearily. weari-ly. He had been "so busy" all day, he said. "Why, Johnnie," his mother suddenly asked, "what made that cut over your left eye?" "Jimmv Hietrins frowed a tomater can and hited tme." "What did you do to Jimmy?" "I frowed the can back." "But what did you do before Jimmy threw the can?" "Oh, I just said: 'Jimmy's mad, and I'm glad, and I know what'll please 'im. A bottle of ink to " "You ought not to have teased Jimmy Jim-my by saying that. How did you get this black and blue place on your leg?" "Oh, Joey Smif and me was seeing which could pinch each other the longest long-est and hardest wivout hollerin' O'uch!' Joey holkr'd first." "Oh. Johnnie, Johnnie! Mamma does not like to have her little boy do such things. Has your nose been bleeding?" "Yeth. ma'am. I fell off the fenth, and it Weeded a lot." "What were you doing on the fence?" "Oh, I was just daring the boy what lives in the new house across the street to come half way over here." "And did he come?" "Yeth, ma'am. That's how I got them squatches on my face." "Why, I thought I saw you and that little boy playing together this afternoon." after-noon." "Yeth, ma'am, but we flghted first. He's a real nice little boy, and I gueth his father is awful rich, 'cause they had turkey for dinner today, and It ain't Christmas nor Thanksgiving." "How did you get this hole In your 1 jacKei.' "Climbing' up a tree, and I tored the holes In the sleeves climbin' down. , It's good fun to climb." "It isn't any fun to mend torn clothes." "I'll take off my jacket next time, mamma." "Then" you'll tear your waist. What's all this in your pockets?" "Oh, just some tones, and spools, and strings, and. keel, and a buckle, a nail. and a key, and my real agate marble, and a shooter, and oh! mamma, I've got the cunningest dead mouse you ever saw in one of my pockets!" "You must not carry such things in your pockets. Now, say your prayers, John. You must be a better boy tomorrow." to-morrow." "Yeth, ma'am, I will." But his tomorrow is like the tomorrows tomor-rows of children of a larger growth the tomorrows that end in failure or forgetfulness of the promise of yesterday, yester-day, and leaves us to confess the defeat and failure of the day to the Father of us all. |