  Dear Jack-in-the-Pulpit: If I drum in the house, "Oh, what a noise you make!" Sighs Mamma. "Baby'll wake!" If in the garden green I drum, our Bridget cries: "Ye'll mak' me spile the pies And cakes! I can not think! That droom destroys me wit! Be off, me b'y,—or quit!" If I drum in the street, Out comes Miss Peters, quick, And says her ma is sick; Or Doctor Daniel Brown Calls from his window: "Bub, That dreadful rub-a-dub Confuses my ideas. My sermon is not done. Run on, my little son!" The creeps crawl up my back When I am still, and oh, Nobody seems to know How very tired I get Without some sort of noise, Such as a boy enjoys! Last summer, on the farm, I used to jump and shout, For Grandpa Osterhout And Grandma both are deaf. But soon some neighbors came And said it was a shame, The way I scared them all. They called my shouts "wild yells," And asked if I had "spells" Or "fits, or anything." You see, grown people all Forget they once were small. Now, isn't there one place Where "wriggley" tired boys Can make a stunning noise And play wild Injun-chief, And Independence-day, And not be sent away? Or was that place left out? Dear Jack, please tell me true; I've confidence in you. Your friend without end, Tommy. This is a very touching epistle, my hearers, and Tommy has my hearty sympathy. There must be such a place as he is looking for, though the Deacon says that in the course of a long life he has never happened upon the exact locality. According to the Little School-ma'am, too, it is not described in any of the geographies; but she says that, for the sake of all concerned, it is very desirable that the missing paradise of little drummer boys should be discovered;—to which the Deacon adds, "Perhaps that's why the grown folk wish to find the North Pole." While we are upon this subject, here is a letter describing some tiny drummers that make almost as much noise as patriotic youngsters, and do quite as much mischief. To his credit, however, it must be said that this other small musician only makes his appearance as a drummer once in seventeen years. Is he bent on setting an example, I wonder? He is called |
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