Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 160, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1913 — Jimmy Mann [ARTICLE]

Jimmy Mann

How she ewer cot up into to* Mg "city room” *f the morning paper was a mystery—a tiny, teeny-haired thing; down whose olwbtqr cheeks teen had made their i leiijej ■ through the grime. She nee pstohsd. bet net ■egged; bet her iannemts wen faded ni were nndodbtefßr 'taade-onm* would lock U imparl sad pvt into clothing such m tittle gWa at bar MBs wenr. "HuSo!" edaentadsd a young reporter with a Mg pipe In Ms ttwtWi, aknoet falling ever the visitor. The younger the “onto" the bigger the pipe he achieves, and this was a particular ty new pencil pewher—the very newest on the staff. "Weß, weß! Who dkl you come to see. Sissy?”

-I ain’t Shear, ~ ohs declared, promptly, but there was a Utile catch tn her voice which betrayed that the eobs were scarcely ceased. "And I went to see the editor men." "You do? And what for?" "You ain’t hims” declared the little Miss, gravely. "Discovered!" he groaned pathetically, as several of Ms mates cbnehlr ed. “Even the kiddy knows I’m only a cub. Right this way, please,” and with, a grand air he led hereto the desk of the busy who had the minute before given him his assignment. The bewhiakered gentleman with the green shade over Ms eyes turned brusquely, sad the cub-reporter dodged out of sight The editor raised the shade of Ms drop-light and Its radiance fell full upon the pathetic little figure. "Is you the editor man?" she asked. “Yes, little one; what can I do for yon?" he returned, Ms voice wonderfully gentle ail of a sadden. The child nwatifwiFeit a Mg lump In her throat, and the blue eyes swam "jimmy's dead,” she stammered; "and I thought you'd maybe Hke to tell about it" "Who is Jimmy!" Queried the puzzled editor. “Why, don’t you know Jimmy! Everybody known Jimmy. He works tor you. He sells your paper." The editor waited s moment before he spoke. "You knew there are so many people to know, I can't know wuxm all,” he sadM apologetically. "Tea me shout Jimmy.” "Wbe, he soAd pepers and ran errands and worked hard. He always brought it a# home to mower, too. We ain't very itch, you know,” confidentially. "But mower says toe City Man wfS bury Jimmy "Do you sell papers, too?” asked the editor, quietty. "No I ain't big enough. 1 can only pick out basting freed p for muwer. She sews. But Jimmy bought me candy dogs and candy roosters, and be ticked bad beys what made me cry. And if you'd Just tell folks how good he v-ae- —'** "What do you want me to say, tittle one?” The circle of silence about toe desk was widening. A dozen typewriters stopped their Matter and toe men gathered quietly around the visitor. ."Why, that he wae 1* years old, an’ was helpin’ muwer, an'—oh, I don't know! But 'member he was always so good to me!" and then the tears that had stood in toe blue eyes followed toe beaten track down the grimy cheeks. In toe great metropolitan dally the next morning appeared this paragraph under the "Obituary'* heading: "Jtasny Maim died yesterday, and &e City Charity Society buries him today. Jimmy’s fitted Mm In every particular, although he was under 12 yean oM. He .was a man. He was the support of Ms widowed mother and loved his little sister devotedly. If any reader doubts this, let him call at 620 Blank Street, where Jimmy lived, and ask those Who now lack Ms aspart” Perhaps there were not many who doubted the tnrthfOf this odd little obituary; but there were many callers «t the widow’s home that day, and Jimmy Mann’s grieving little slater was more than ewer assured that "everybody knew Jimmy."—New York Press.