Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1891 — DOUBLE DICK AND JOE; The Poorhouse Waifs. [ARTICLE]

DOUBLE DICK AND JOE; The Poorhouse Waifs.

BY DAVID LOWRY.

CHAPTER I. BARNESVILLE POORHOUSE. •Whoa, whoa, thar, you tarnal critters' Whoa! Lord, es this is Barnesville poorhouse, an’ the inside ain’t more invitin’ than the outside, all I’ve got to say is it’s the steppin’ stun to— —” “Sir?” “Oh, excuse me! I didn’t see you. I just drove up.” The speaker stepped leisurely out of his wagon, a lumbering affair, but it had two spirited horses, and they seemed to be, as their driver said, “a-feelin’ ov their oats.” The driver looked keenly at the man who was frowning upon him. “This is the poorhouse, ain’t it?” “Yes.” The word was snapped out. The man who was leaning on the end of the wagon smiled knowingly. “Well, now—say. D'you be’ong ’round hyar?” The speaker indicated the building and grounds with a shake of his head. “Suppose I do—what then? “Oh. nothin’, nothin’. Only I’m hyar on a little business. Es you're one of the folks, p'raps you'll be so kind and obleegin’ as for to tell the superintendent, Mr. Jake—no, Mr. Zeke, I guess it is—Mr. Zeke Caper—l want to see him. ” “That's my name, sir. ” “Gosh! Be it?” “I said so, sir. ” “Of course—of course. No offense. Well, I’m glad I've found you, Mr. Caper. I’ve brought you a note from Mr. Israel Heber. ” The man fumbled in his pocket and produced an envelope that was deeply wrinkled. The Superintendent of the Poorhousc opened the note quickly, then, as he ran his eye over the short piece of paper, glanced at the bearer. “This note tells me that you are Mr. Job Wonder. ” * “That’s me all the time. ” “Mr. Heber ' says you are entirely trustworthy. ” “Well, I’ve ben' livin’, boy an’ man, sixty years in this county, an’ I reckon ther aint no man dare say a hcuter agin me to my sac I knock him into the next township for it 'fore I stop.” •I’ve no doubt of your honesty, Mr. ” “Wonder —Job Wonder. He’d ought to put it p'ain in the letter, so’s you’d m nd It.” “So, Mr. Wonder. My friend says you are ready, on account of old acquaintance, to serve him ” “Egzackly so. That's what I said. Sez he to me, ‘Job, I want a favor.’ ‘Spit it right out,’ sez I. Then he to!d me he’d be obleeged if I drive round this way—you see, it’s two mile out o’ my road, or more—so here I be. Gosh! what an all-fired big place you have got hyar, to be sure. ” “Come in, Mr. Wonder—step in. ” “To be sure—l'm right along with you! Where’s all the critters—all the the blasted poor people? Oh, there they be! Sunnin’ of themselves—phew! If there ain’t a old woman for all the world sothin’ like a mud-turtle 01 a log! Them's the no-account ones, 1 guess!” “Yes, that’s the truth, Mr. Wonder. Will you have a ‘snack?’ ”

“I don't keer es Ido take a bite. It’ll be late ’fore I git home ” “Just step inside here. This is my own room—my sitting-rcom. ” The Superintendent stepped outside, while Mr Job Wonder, true to his name, eyed everything in the room in pure wonder. It was unlike any room he had ever been in. “It’s the dod-darnedest place I ever sot eyes on! I wouldn’t live hyar—no, I wouldn't hang out in Barnesville Poorhouse es they give me Sa a day an’ board. I wouldn’t sit on this infernal yaller-clay bank, where the flies are thicker’n tar-bugs in June, for—hello! I say! Where d you come from?” “Where did you come from?” “Ha, ha! That's good, now! Where’d I come from? From Wonders Mill. Now, then, tell me where yon hail from —or, mebbe, you just lit down?" “I belong here." • “You do! Well, you look just like it. Lord —what a git-up!” “What's that?” “I said what a git-no,” “You think I ain't nice. I can play the banjo, and dance, and sing—that’s more than you can do. ” “Hello! 1 Hello-o o! Why, you don’t look to be more’n two feet high. How old be you?” “I don' know.” “You don't know how old you be?” “I told you I don' know. How old are you?” Job Wonder covered his face with his hat, and the Superintendent entered at that moment, with an angry expression on his face. “Sorry to detain you, Mr. Wonder. The things will be here in a minute. I am looking for a girl I want to show you. Here arc the victuals.” A thinly clad man brought in a tray with cold chicken, pies, and milk, and p acing the tiay on a table withdrew silently. “Just help yourself—eat hearty, Mr. Wonder. 1 erhaps you will take a little The Superintendent looked knowingly at Job, and Job looked knowingly at the Superintendent. “Well, I don’t keer if I do, bein’ as you’ve axed me. ” The Superintendent of Barnesville Poorhouse proceeded to the closet he was looking at, brought out a b ack bott'e, took the cork out of it, and handing him a tumbler, said “Help yourself!” Job Wonder smelled the bottle—poured out a “pretty good snifter, ” to use his -own words, drank it, smacked his lips, and said, “That’s pretty good licker, Squire.” The Superintendent took a drink, and as he replaced the bottle replied, “Yes—you’ll not get any better in Acorn County. Now, help yourself, while 1 look for the girl I spoke of. ” He went out, Job Wonder seated himself, and was disposing rapidly of the chicken and pie when the Superintendent entered with the girl Job had met, and who had disappeared in a mysterious manner. “I’ve brought thfe girl for you to look at, Mr. Wonder. Isn’t she a beauty.” “Well, I’ve seen wus—a great deal wus

lookin’ girls than that,“said Job, looking at the girl as if he had not beheld her until that minute. The girl’s face grew red—fiery red—then pale. In that moment she intuitively recognized a friend in Job Wonder. She stepped back from the Superintendent, however, with a lowering face. “Hold your head up! Hold it up, I say!” “Don’t scold her,” said Job. “Scold her? She’s used to it. Mr. Wonder, this girl is—is—well, she gives me more trouble than all the rest put together, and I want you to do me a favor. I’m going to bind her out —that’s the rule in Acorn County, you know. I’m going to bind her out, with the approval of the Commissioners, of course, and I want you to do me the favor to take her with you over to Bill Stubbs.” “To Bill Stubbs’ place?” “Yes. Bill will keep her until somebody takes her for good or bad —bad, I reckon,” the Superintendent added, under his breath. “Why. yes—that’s if you want me to.” But the girl had some ideas on the subject She shook her hair—it was in a tangle—evidently no comb had penetrated that tangle in days. “I don’t want to be bound out I want to stay here. ” “Hush up. How dare you speak that way?” “Don’t you be rough on her —she don’t mean it,” said Job Wonder. “O, yes she does. I’Ve walloped her for it often enough to cure her of it, too.” “Walloped that little mite,” said Job Wonder under his breath. “What a shame!” “Yes, you'll be bound out —where you’ll be held in check. If Bill Stubbs takes you off the county’s hands, he'll bring you s o time Now, don't you snivel —shut up. ” The girl had her skirt —a dirty, colorless skirt it was—to her eyes. “Be you in earnest ’bout Bill Stubbs?” asked Job Wonder. “Dead earnest. ” “Well—now, see hyar. I don’t know as I want a girl. Fact is, my folks has lotso' time as ’tis. My wife fusses an’ fusses an’ my sister fusses, but between them they don’t do a mite. ’Cos why—we’ve got two girls now. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Es, as you say, you're goin’ to give her to Bill Stubbs, suppose I take her. What do you say?” “Why, I would be glad of the chance. Take her and welcome.” “O, do —do! Don't let Stubbs have me!” implored the girl, turning to Job. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Job’s eyes looked moist as he put his hand out and patted her head. “I’ll take you. I don’t keer if my ole woman does scold me for bringin’ a girl irom Barnesville Poorhouse. I’ve never had no gir.s. I reckon a man can pick one girl up in a life-time if he wants to. Leastways, I've made my mind up. See hyar, Squire, you know me. I’ll make it ail right. You fix up the papers, same as you was goin' to do for Stubbs, an’ I’ll come over and sign ’em in a day or tWo, an’ give bond, regular, everything shipshape. That’s my style. I guess my word’s as good as my bond. ” “Quite —quite, Mr. Wonder. If you will take her I’il have the papers prepared by Saturday. ” “That’ll just suit me,” said Wonder. “Go and get your things—your hat and dress—and put on your shoes and stockings. Mr. Wonder will give you ten minutes.”

“It’ll take that long for her to comb her hair!” said Job. “I m not in such a pesky hurry—say, Mr. Caper, what'll I call her?” “Joe,” answered the girl. “Joe? That’s a boy’s name ” “Short for Josephine. ” “Oh!” “I don't like Josephine.” “Go get your things,” ordered the Superintendent, pushing her out of the room; She was absent seemingly only a few minutes. When she returned she carried in one hand a little bundle, and a banjo in the other. “Put that banjo down —le’ave it hete,” commanded Mr. Caper. “I won t —l mean, 1 want to ” “Put it down, 1 say; Mr. Wonder don’t want you taking that thing along. He would be distracted with your noise.” “I won’t leave it. It's my own! Mine, and I’ll keep it. ” The girl was ready to cry again. Job interposed once more. “To be sure she kin bring her banjo, Mr. Caper—to be sure.” “Web, it’s your affair now, Mr. Wonder.” “She won’t do no harm—tain’t like as es she was a player, you kn >w. She can fetch it along. Well, is this the- hull bilin’ o’ clothes? Es ’tis, ’twon’t swell our wash much. ” They were out on the road now. The Superintendent stood smiling as the farmer helped the girl into the wagon. But Joe did not need or want a helping hand. She suddenly put the farmer’s hand aside and sprang into the wagon and seated herself. She seemed eager to be away. She did not deign to glance at the Superintendent. Mr. Caper did not seem to ba thinking of his charge. Ali his attention was given to Mr. Wonder.

“You’ll come for to sign the papers Saturday." “Sure pop; sure's my name’s Job Wonder.” assured the fanner. “Gee up! G’lang! You Alexander; you Napoleon, git! Good-by, Mr. Caper, good-by. ” But there was no good-by from Joe. She was sitting with compressed lips and a strange, new light in her eyes. “I’m in luck again,” said Zeke Caper, as he scowled upon the wagon. “I was mighty lucky to get her off so soon. Now ,et them come as soon as they please. Thanks to my friend Israel, they won’t find a hair of her in Barnesville poorhouse. And nobody will ever be any the wiser, and I’ll be a pile of money ahead, or Israel will hear from me!” The Superintendent shaded his eyes and looked down the road. “Here they come now—lickity-split, I'll bet a year's salary. Well—let'em come.” And the Superintendent of Barnesville poorhouse re-entered the building that served as a shell —a very thin shell—for the misery thrown upon the tender mercies of Acorn County. CHAPTER It. DICK. When Mr. Caper entered the door of the poorhouse his eye fell on a lad crouching ba kof a door. The boy had a thin —a very thin—pinched face. It was the face of a starveling His cheeks were pfc hed and white: h’s eves were large, hungry—very hungry eyes His clothes flappe 1 about him. “What are you doing here, curse you!” exclaimed Mr. Caper, in a harsh voice, as he grasped the boy. “I was—was just going back into the dining-room,” the boy replied.

| “You lie!’ The Superintendent brought from his I coat pocket a heavy strap, and struck i the .boy across the hands—across the i knees —across his back. < “There! Take that (strap), and that ■ (strap) and that" (strap). And then 1 the blows fell' so fast the Superintend- ’ ent’s tongue could not keep pace with 1 them. I The boy never made a move—made no ; Sign—did not cry out He looked straight at the Superintendent with his ■ great hungry, hollow eyes until the latI ter paused, fairly out of breath. i “Why don’t you howl? Howl, I tell i you, howl!” : * The boy looked at his tormentor ; steadily. “Not for you.” “You won’t! you won’t! You won’t howl for me (strap). You think I can't make you howi (strap)! Eh (strap)! I can’t make you (strap) howl!” “Na ” Mr. Caper was now breathless and speechless with rage. He could only glare at the boy. | “If you kill me,‘Mr. Caper, you can’t ; make me cry again. I’ve shed my last ; tear here. ” “You have?” “Yes; you can beat me now; if you don't kill me, as sure as I live and grow bigger. I’ll pay you back. Go ahead, now—beat me.” Mr. Caper leaned on his chair amazed. He tried to speak, but could not. He put out a hand, grasped the boy, pulled him to him with a jerk that lifted the boy off his feet, and whispered hoarsely in his ear: “You—you threaten me?” “I do.” The boy stood motionless. Then he said, in a low, concentrated tone: “You are a cowatd —a cowardly brute. Don’t you touch mo again. I’ve i here. They’ve been watching you, Mr.; ! Ca;.er. If you hurt me—if you kill me,; there’s people in Barnesville will turn you out, and then maybe you’ll have to hook it. ” “You —you young devil! What does all this mean?” “It means this: Joe’s gone now. You’ve got rid of her, and I’ve took my last licking. I don’t need to be licked any. more. I’ve saved her years; that’s all I let you lick me so keep you off poor Joe. ” “Oh! That was it, was it?” “Yes. Now, you hit me once more—only once—and if I can kill you I’ll do it. I’ve warned you. I may as well bo dead as be under you, anyhow. I’ll get even with you, Mr. Caper, if it’s in my power. You’ve been a brute to all of us. You whipped poor Joe every day, until I managed to make you mad at me. ” “Oh! You made me mad. You’re not making me mad now. We’ll see if I can’t choke you into obedience.” He rushed at the boy, flung him on the floor, Knelt on his breast. “Ask my pardon—ask my forgiveness! Say you’re sorry. Beg pardon. ” “Never! You 11 choke me—and hang for it.” “Ask my pardon!” “Never. ” The Superintendent’s eye blazed with malevolence. His fingers clutched the boys’ windpipe. Another minute and it would have been over with the poor boy, when a sound of wheels reminded the Superintendent of the position he was in. He bounded to his feet, freed the boy, who rose slowly, and with great difficulty. and walked away, as two gentlemen entered the main entrance. [to be continued.]