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Painted His Whiskers

Painted His Whiskers image
Parent Issue
Day
15
Month
October
Year
1890
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

"Mamma," eaid the 6-ysar-old younRster in a loud whisper, so that every one iu the car could haar him, "look at the man." "Yes, dear," answered his mother, who was reading. The train dashed around the curve and sent the boy' ieet into ono corner and nis head against bis mother. "Yes, dear," she answered gently, still ronding. The train shot tuto a tunnel, plunged through the darkness and drove out into the sunlight. "Ye, dear," inesaid, turninc a page. "He's got red wbiskors," eaid the loud whiêper. "Yes, dear." "They're awful red." "Yes, dear," and the people bejran to realizo that the mother was not listenins to what her darlinjr sald. Those who were fathorB and mothers miled iu antlclpation. The red-wbiskored man studlod his paper careiully. "They're fiery red." "Yes, dear," Bweetly. "They're rodder'n my father'." "Yes, dear." Aaother pare was turned. "18 he any relation to iny father?" "Yes, dear." "Is he any relation to ma?" "Yee, dear." "They're awfnl red." "Yes, dear," quietly. "rt'ill I haTO red whi skers liko that when l'm a man?" "Yes, dear." "13ut I don't want 'em," whlmperincr. "There, dear, don't talk e o much. Mamma is reading." "Do you llke 'em so red?" "Yes, doar," soothingly. "I don't. Maybe he paints 'em. Does he palnt 'em?" "Yes, dear." "I won't have to pafnt mine, will I?" "Ye, dear," fondly. "liut I don't want to. Does papa paint his?" "Yes, dear." "Oh, I won't paint mine." Mamma begins on a new pace. "When will I havo to paint 'em?" Mamma does not bear Alm. , "Will X have to paint 'om as roía his?" "Yes, dear." "Mamma, look at him. He's mad. "Yes, dear." "His face is redder 'n his whiskora." "Yes, dear." "lía's (tone out of the car." "Yes, dear." "Mamma, how often does he havo to paint 'em?" "Paint what, daar?" aslced mamma, droppine the book in her lap and looking at the child. "Ilis whlskors. You eaid he painted 'em and he jjot mad and went away." Hut mamma's face looked as if it were painted scarlot, and she read ste&dily for oue hour without answerioij a eincle queation.-

Article

Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Courier