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Story
November 6, 1890
River Falls Journal
River Falls, Saint Croix County, Pierce County, Wisconsin
What is this article about?
On a train, a six-year-old boy loudly whispers about a man's red whiskers to his reading mother, who absentmindedly agrees to every remark, including that the man paints them, causing the embarrassed man to leave the car.
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PAINTED HIS WHISKERS
How Little Dear Drove a Red-Haired Man
Out of the Car.
"Mamma," said the six-year-old youngster
in a loud whisper so that every one
in the car could hear him, "look at the
man."
"Yes, dear," answered his mother
who was reading.
The train dashed around a curve and
sent the boy's feet into one corner and
his head against his mother.
"Yes, dear," she answered gently,
still reading.
The train shot into a tunnel, plunged
through the darkness and drove out into
the sunlight.
"Yes, dear," she said, turning a page.
"He's got red whiskers," said the loud
whisper.
"Yes, dear."
"They're awful red."
"Yes, dear," and people began to realize
that the mother was not listening to
what her darling said. Those who
were fathers and mothers smiled in anticipation.
The red-whiskered man studied his paper
carefully.
"They're fiery red."
"Yes, dear," sweetly.
"They're redder 'n my father's."
"Yes, dear."
Another page was turned.
"Is he any relation to my father?"
"Yes, dear."
"Is he any relation to me?"
"Yes, dear."
"They're awful red."
"Yes, dear," quietly.
"Will I have red whiskers like that
when I'm a man?"
"Yes, dear."
"But I don't want 'em," whimpering.
"There, dear, don't talk so much.
Mamma is reading."
"Do you like 'em so red?"
"Yes, dear," soothingly.
"I don't. Maybe he paints 'em. Does
he paint 'em?"
"Yes, dear."
"I won't have to paint mine, will I?"
"Yes, dear," fondly.
"But I don't want to. Does papa
paint his?"
"Yes, dear."
"Oh. I won't paint mine."
Mamma begins on a new page.
"When will I have to paint 'em?"
Mamma does not hear him.
"Will I have to paint 'em as red as
his?"
"Yes, dear."
"Mamma, look at him. He's mad."
"Yes, dear."
"His face is redder'n his whiskers."
"Yes, dear."
"He's going out of the car."
"Yes, dear."
"Mamma, how often does he have to
paint 'em?"
"Paint what, dear?" asked mamma,
dropping the book in her lap and looking
at the child.
"His whiskers. You said he painted
'em and he got mad and went away."
But mamma's face looked as if it were
painted scarlet, and she read steadily
for one hour without answering a single
question. -N. Y. Tribune.
How Little Dear Drove a Red-Haired Man
Out of the Car.
"Mamma," said the six-year-old youngster
in a loud whisper so that every one
in the car could hear him, "look at the
man."
"Yes, dear," answered his mother
who was reading.
The train dashed around a curve and
sent the boy's feet into one corner and
his head against his mother.
"Yes, dear," she answered gently,
still reading.
The train shot into a tunnel, plunged
through the darkness and drove out into
the sunlight.
"Yes, dear," she said, turning a page.
"He's got red whiskers," said the loud
whisper.
"Yes, dear."
"They're awful red."
"Yes, dear," and people began to realize
that the mother was not listening to
what her darling said. Those who
were fathers and mothers smiled in anticipation.
The red-whiskered man studied his paper
carefully.
"They're fiery red."
"Yes, dear," sweetly.
"They're redder 'n my father's."
"Yes, dear."
Another page was turned.
"Is he any relation to my father?"
"Yes, dear."
"Is he any relation to me?"
"Yes, dear."
"They're awful red."
"Yes, dear," quietly.
"Will I have red whiskers like that
when I'm a man?"
"Yes, dear."
"But I don't want 'em," whimpering.
"There, dear, don't talk so much.
Mamma is reading."
"Do you like 'em so red?"
"Yes, dear," soothingly.
"I don't. Maybe he paints 'em. Does
he paint 'em?"
"Yes, dear."
"I won't have to paint mine, will I?"
"Yes, dear," fondly.
"But I don't want to. Does papa
paint his?"
"Yes, dear."
"Oh. I won't paint mine."
Mamma begins on a new page.
"When will I have to paint 'em?"
Mamma does not hear him.
"Will I have to paint 'em as red as
his?"
"Yes, dear."
"Mamma, look at him. He's mad."
"Yes, dear."
"His face is redder'n his whiskers."
"Yes, dear."
"He's going out of the car."
"Yes, dear."
"Mamma, how often does he have to
paint 'em?"
"Paint what, dear?" asked mamma,
dropping the book in her lap and looking
at the child.
"His whiskers. You said he painted
'em and he got mad and went away."
But mamma's face looked as if it were
painted scarlet, and she read steadily
for one hour without answering a single
question. -N. Y. Tribune.
What sub-type of article is it?
Curiosity
What themes does it cover?
Family
Social Manners
What keywords are associated?
Red Whiskers
Child Comments
Train Embarrassment
Absentminded Mother
What entities or persons were involved?
Little Dear
Mamma
Red Whiskered Man
Papa
Where did it happen?
In The Car
Story Details
Key Persons
Little Dear
Mamma
Red Whiskered Man
Papa
Location
In The Car
Story Details
A boy pesters his reading mother with questions about a man's red whiskers on a train; she agrees absentmindedly, suggesting the man paints them, embarrassing him into leaving.