THE GROCER FIT FOH
HEAVEN--HE IS VERY SEVERE ON HIS OLD FRIEND--THE NEED OF A
NEW REVISED EDITION--THE BAD BOY TURNS REVISER--HIS PA
REACHES FOR THE POKER--A SPECIAL PROVIDENCE--THE SLED
SLEWED!--HIS PA UNDER THE MULES.

"Well, I guess I will go to hell. I will see you later," said the bad
boy to the grocery man, as he held a cracker under the faucet of the
syrup keg, and then sat down on a soap box by the stove and proceeded
to make a lunch, while the grocery man charged the boy's father with a
gallon of syrup and a pound of crackers.

"What do you mean, you profane wretch, talking about meeting me later
in Hades," said the indignant grocery man. "I expect to pass by the hot
place where you are sizzling, and go to the realms of bliss, where
there is one continued round of hap-hiness, and angels playing on golden
harps, and singing hymns of praise."

"Why, Pa says I will surely go to hell, and I thought you would probably
be there, as it costs something to get to heaven, and you can get to the
other place for nothing. Say, you would be a healthy delegate to go
to heaven, with a lot of girl angels, wouldn't you, smelling of frowy
butter, as you always do, and kerosene, and herring, and bar soap, and
cheese, and rotten potatoes. Say, an angel wouldn't stay on the same
golden street with you, without holding her handkerchief to her nose,
and you couldn't get in there, anyway, cause you would want to pay your
entrance fee out of the store.

"Say, you get out of here, condemn you. You are getting sassy. There is
no one that is more free hearted than I am," said the grocery man.

"O, give us a _siesta_. I am onto you bigger than an elevator. When they
had the oyster sociable at the church, you gave four pounds of musty
crackers with worms in, and they tasted of kerosene, and when the
minister prayed for those who had generously contributed to the
sociable, you raised up your head as though you wanted them all to
know he meant you. If a man can get to heaven on four pounds of musty
crackers, done up in a paper that has been around mackerel, then what's
the use of a man being good, and giving sixteen ounces to the pound?
But, there, don't blush, and cry. I will use my influence to get your
feet onto the golden streets of the New Jerusalem, but you have got to
quit sending those small potatoes to our house, with a few big ones on
top of the basket. I'll tell you how it was that Pa told me I would go
to