Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 November 1901 — His Little Wretch. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

His Little Wretch.

BY IRENE D. CRAIGEN.

(Copyright isoi, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) ; The sUn shone fiercely uown in the factory yard and upon Mr. William Cole, foreman, seated upon a pile of lumber and*muttering imprecations as he dug his heel savagely in the hot •and. “If I ever get back to civilization, confound it. I’ll stay there! ’’ he was 1 declaring under his breath. “It's just as the poet fellow says, ‘Better fifty ! years of What's-his-name than a cycle 1 of Carthage.' ” “Who's you talkin’ to, Mister? " j piped a small voice. Mr. Billy started and looked up, to ! find himself confronted by an atom. It Was a feminine atom, dressed in a torn pink frock, with a shock of mud-col-ored hair and the bluest eyes that ever looked out of a dirty face. The atom dragged after it a wagon made of pasteboard, mounted on empty spools, in which reclined with what grace it might a doll formed from a stick of kindling wood wrapped in a bit of calico. “Hulloa! you little wretch —where’d you spring from?’’ asked Mr. Billy. “Over there,” responded the atom, nodding vaguely in the direction of a line of hovels, half a mile away. “I play here ’cos we ain’t got 9.0 yard and it’s hot in the road. That’s my house you’s setting' on now.” “Oh! it is, is it?” responded Mr. Billy, gravely. “Well, now, see here. I’m not going to have you coming here, where cars are backing in all the time. You’ll be killed if you do. Not that you wouldn’t be better off in Heaven; but I don’t care to have your death on my soul and mind. Now, here’s a small fraction of United States currency. Take it and trot along home, and remember that if you spend it judiciously you may some day be as rich as Rockefeller. Don’t lose sight of the fact that I’m vested in the panoply of power here. So git!” The child held out her hand for the penny, and eyed Mr. Billy wistfully. “I don’t wanter go home,” she said; "she whips me." , , “Does, hey?” said the big man, with amiable sternness. “Well, perhaps you need it. Tell you what I’ll do, though. If you’ll promise solemnly, honest Injun, to stay away from the tracks, you may bring your doll duds over here. Promise?” The child nodded. ‘‘All right; fire away, then. If your face were cleaner. 1 would give you a

“Who's you talkin' to, mister?” chaste kite on the cheek just for luck; but, under the circumstances, I think I will forbear.” Then Mr. Billy went whistling away to his work, "and the atom made a palace of the lumber pile c.nd seated Rosabella in state in the drawingroom, while she prepared an Imaginary dinner in an imaginary kitchen under some projecting boards. The next day when the youngster appeared Mr. Billy greeted her cheerfully with:

“Well, you little wretch, how are you? ’ “I’se well,” responded the infant. And. as he drew nearer,- the foreman discovered, from the smeary condition of her countenance, that some effort had been made to render it clean. “Been washing your face, I see,” he commented. “Is yer goin’ to kiss me now?” the child demanded. “Think I shall. Here’s a corner that's comparatively spotless, and upon it I press my lips thus—partly as a reward of merit for your praiseworthy efforts and partly because you have the

biggest violet eyes in twenty states.” The atom smiled graciously at the compliment, and as often as she saw Mr. Billy in the days that followed she’d wave a stately hand at him, and he would respond with a “How’s my little wretch?” in a big voice that rang through the yards.

One day Mr. Billy was at home with an attack of what he called, for want of a better name, “the durndest fever a fellow ever had,” when his small protege came to harm. She had a skipping rope in her hand and was wandering near the forbidden tracks when a freight car of lumber backed into the yard. The end of the rope was caught by the wheels, and as the little one tugged to repossess herself of it her foot slipped under the car and was cruelly mangled. She whimpered for a moment, hut the little wretch had been brought up in a stern school, where sympathy was unknown, and directly she lay quiet until one of the men passed near where she was. Then she lifted her voice in a piteous cry. ”Here s the little wretch,” she said. “I’se awfully hurted. Please come and get me.”

They carried her to the hospital and summoned her mother, and after the surgeons had removed the crushed member and made the patient as comfortable as possible she began to get feverish. “Where is the big man?" she asked, plaintively. “Why doesn’t he come to see his little wretch?” “I’m here, Martha, ’ said her mother, her surly face for once softening. “Won’t I do?” “No,” said the atom, her head tossing on the pillow. “I want my big man! He loves me. He kissed me once, and he gave me this yesterday. I’m his little wretch. Oh! why doesn’t he come to me?” "This” was a penny, the last of a series of such gifts, which had been tightly clasped In the small hand every minute, except when the surgeons were operating. “Who is this man?" asked the sweetfaced nurse. “If we could find him, her last moments would be easier. Nothing can save her life, but she would be happy if he were by when she passes out.” “I don’t know no man!” said the woman, roughly. “She’s out of her mind.” ' “Johnny knows my man,” went on the little voice; “he’ll go for him. Tell

hlaa fils little wretch Is hurted, and he’ll come.” But before Johnny could be found the shadows had lengthened in the ward, and the murmur had grown so weak that the “Oh! why doean’t the big man come to see his little wretch ?’• could hardly be distinguished. Then, as the sun went down, all was quiet again in the dormitory, and the nurse drew the sheet up over the still, white, beautiful face of the atom. When Mr. Billy heard about It th» next day his face paled, and his language was something fearful. “I’d have given my life and all the money I possess to have been with the kid!’’ he said, brokenly. And then he went over to the hovel and laid a rosebud in the hand that still held the penny.

“Where Is the big man?”