Temperance > Autobiography and personal recollections of John B. Gough

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH.
hood and in after-years, and I have always sympathized
with every boy who was “ prone to mischief,”—I mean
without malice. Any and every opportunity for a joke
was a strong temptation, almost irresistible. How, when
I have seen the baker with a tray of loaves on his head,
my toes would fairly curl in my shoes, with the longing
just to put out my foot, and give him only one little trip.
I think one of the severest punishments my father ever
gave me—and I richly deserved it—was for a trick of this
kind, which boys call “fun.” A dapper little man, a
! tailor by profession, attended the Methodist chapel, where
my father used to worship; and his seat was directly in
front of ours. He was a bit of a dandy, a little conceited,
and rather proud of his personal appearance, but was a
sad stammerer. He had what was called a “scratch
wjg >>_ a small affair, that just covered the top of his head.
One unlucky Sunday for me, as I was sitting in the
chapel, with his head and wig right before me, I began
playing with a pin, and having bent it to the form of a
hook, found in my pocket a piece of string; tied it around
the head of the pin, and began to fish, with no thought of
any particular mischief, and doing what boys often do in
church, when they are not interested in or do not under¬
stand the service. So with one eye on my father, who sat
by me intently listening to the discourse, and one eye
alternately on the minister and my fishing-line, I con¬
tinued to drop my hook, and haul it up again very quietly
—when, becoming tired of fishing, I gathered up the line,
and resting the pin on my thumb, gave it a snap; up it
went; I snapped it again and again very carefully, till one
unfortunate snap sent the pin on Billy Bennett’s head; it
slid off. Then the feat was to see how often I could snap
it on his head without detection. After several successful
performances of this feat, I snapped it a little too hard.