THE BAD BOY AT BREAKFAST.

Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4447, 6 April 1883, Page 3

THE BAD BOY AT BREAKFAST.

" Yei," said the boy, with a vacant lock, "I take no interest in the pleasure of the chase any more, though I did have a little qniet fan this morning at the breakfast table. You see pa is the contraries! man ever was. If I complain that anything at the table don't taste good, pa says it is all right. This morning I took the syrup pitcher and emptied out the white syrup and put in some cod-liver oil that ma is taking for her cough- I put some on my pancakes, and pretended to taste of it, and I told pa the syrup was sour and not fit to eat. Pa was road in a secon ', and he poured some out on his pancakes and said I was getting too confounded particular. He" said the syrup was good enough ' for him," and he sopped his pancakes in it and fired some down his neck. He is a gaul darned hypceri c— that's what he iB. I could, see by his face'that the cod-liver oil was near killliog him, but he said the syrup was all right, and if I didn't eat mine he'd break my neck ; and, by gosh, I had to eat it, an pa he gues«ed he hadn't got much appetite and he would just drink a cup of coffee and eat adonut. I like to dide, and that I think makes this disappointment in love harder to bear. But I felt sorry for ma. Ma ain't got a very strong stummicb, and when she got some of that cod liver oil in her mouth she went up stairs, sickern a horse, and pa had to help her, and she had nooraigia all the morning. I eat pickles to take the taste out of my mouth, and then I laid for the hired girls. They eat i too much syrup, any way,.and when they. got on to that cod-liver oil and swallowed a lot of it, one .of them, an nirish girl, abe , got up from tbe table and put her hand on her corset and said 1 bowly Moses!' and went out in the kitchen looking as psle as ma does when she has powder on her face, aud the other girl, who is Dutch, she swallowed a pan-cake,'-and said, 'Mine Gott, vas de matter from me,' and she went out and leaned on the coal bin. They talked Irish and Dutch, and got clubs and started to look for me, and I thought I would come over here. Tbe whole family is Rick,, but it is not from love, like my illness, and they will get over it, while I shall fill an early grave ; but not till I have made that jjirl and the telegraph messenger wish they were dead. Fa and I are going to Chicago next week, and I'll bet wall have some fun. Fa says I need a change of air, and he think he is going to try to lose me. It's a cold day when I get left anywhere that I can't find my way back. Well, pood-bye, old potatoes."—Peck's Sun.