Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 January 1891 — PAM’S BOY PARD. [ARTICLE]

PAM’S BOY PARD.

“Er feemale, blfffae it all!” whined' - Pandy Small, as he gazed across the \ creek at the woman moving about in | front of the cabin on the other side i “Now my bad luck has begun in plum 1 earnest Er woman alius wuz bad inedicitia for me, an’ the next thing I’ll hev wus3 nor a spraint ankii. Duz ye -say as she has bought Joe Punty’s cabin, lad?” • "That is what I heard when I went for the * flour,” replied the boy who stood by Paddy’s side. “Wuli, thin it’s most problikely so. She’ll l)e rite over thar whar I kin see her, most any time. I might jest as well gin up ever doing ennythin, w’ile she’s ’roun’.” ’ “Why is it that you dislike women so?”*asked the boy. Pandy looked startled for a moment. “Don’t ax me thet I’ll never tell the hull story. They’ve alius brought bad luck ter me, an’ I caii’t bear ter look at one ov. ’em. Frum ther very day thet I married one ov the critters I’ve jest had a tarnet hard row ter hoe.” Then he limped slowly toward the cabin and entered. The boy followed. He was a sharp-eyed .little fellow of sixteen, who had appeared at Cold Water Bar a few days before and had been the means of rescuing* Pandy Small from an old forsaken shaft, into which the man had accidentally fallen. Pandy’s ankle was sprained so badly that for two or three days ho was unable to touch his foot to the ground.. The boy had remained at Pandy’s cabin, cooking his food and taking care of him as if he were a relative, although

the strange, whining, peevish man was far from a pleasant companion. When asked his name, the boy replied that they might call him Frank. He utterly refused to tell his other name or give any explanation of his sudden appearance in Cold Water Bar. When questioned by Pandy, he would say: “Wait awhile; perhaps I will tell you by and bye.” The man, strange to say, took a liking to the boy. Pandy was an unsociable. peevish old chap, whom nobody liked, and many wondered at the friendship that sprung up between him and the boy. When Pandy was able to limp around on his foot, Frank spoke of going away, but the man would not hear to it. - “Yer a-goin’ ter stay right hyer an becum my pard, lad. Pandy Small’s got er leetle suthin’ laid away fur damp weather—more’n Hiost people think—an’ he knows whar there’s more. Thar hain’t no one as Pandy Small keers j fer, an’ ye might as well hev part o’ ther boodle as sumbody else. Ye’ve got ter stay.” And Frank stayed. About the time that the boy appear? ed iu the camp, a strange woman came in from Red Gap on tho stage. She wore a heavy veil that effectually concealed her face, and while she remained at Cold Water’s one hotel no man saw her face uncovered. Finally, she purchased Joe Punty's cabin, that stood opposite Pandy Small’s, some distance down the creek. Then she “set up housekeeping” on a limited scale. After Pandy had discovered what had happened he could think of nothing but the woman across the ereok. A hundred times a day he gazed over the water to see if he could catch a glimpse of the veiled woman. “Can’t get the.- pesky critter outen my head,” he whined. “I try ter think er suthin’ else, but ’tain’t much use. I’m all ther time expectin’ suthin’ onlucky ter happen." | Gradually Pandy’s ankle got better, , until at last, it was quite well. As his * ankle grew stronger, the man seemed ! to grow fonder of his Boy Pard. “I’d had er boy ’bout yer age, es he’d lived,” he said, one day, “Is your boy dead"" asked Frank. “Wull, there, lad; you see I don’t ; jest know as ter that” j “Don’t know? That is strange. Why ' don’t you know?” “Now don’t ye go fur ter axin’ questions, fur I shan’t answer ’em,” | was the reply. And that was all that Tandy would say about it Frank soerned to pay no need- to the woman across the creek, but at timos, when Pandy was not looking, covert and guarded signals passed between the two. It would have been evideirtr to an observer that they were not strangers. One day, while on a ramble not far from camp, Pandy paused on the edge of a shallow ravine. He had heard voices below, and as he peered cautiously down, he saw a sight which filled him with amazement , A short distance away stood tho strange veiled woman talking earnestly with Pandy’s Boy Pard. To Pandy, the woman’s voice seemed strangely natural, although he did not catch tho drift of her words. Suddenly the woman lifted her veil, and, stooping a trifle, kissed the boy. v or an instant the man caught a fair view of her face. Then he uttered a cry of mingled amazement and ter ror, and losing his balance, fell downward into the ravine. He struck heavily on tho rocks below. A sharp pain shot through his body, then ho beeame unconsciqus. ■ * • * ■*» • • * • One day, Pandy opened his eyes after a refreshing slumber, and found his Boy Pard, by tho bedside. He gazed around and saw, with some wonder, that he was in his owu rudo cabin.

“What has happened?” he asked- . “You have been very sick,"’replied Frank. “You fell and were badly injured.” “Ye.=»; I remember,” cried Pandy, starting up. “That woman!—who was she? She looked just like my dead wife!” “Be ealn' and I will explain every thing, Lorenzo Hatch." “Lorenzo Hatch!' shouted the man. “You know me!” 1 her. he smluenly became calm, and down,-said quietly; “I am listening.'’ “It has been more than a week sines you were injured by that fall,” said th# boy. “You have been delirious most of the time since then, and from youl ravings I have learned your past life. You told how you were married year* ago to Lizzie Marten; how a tittle son came to you," and how, finally, your wife and yourself quarrelled. Theq your wife left you, carrying her child in her arms. You came west to seek—your fortune, but ill-luck followed iq your footsteps. For a year or two yon! knocked around in different parts of the country. Finally, in a fit of desperation, you attempted, singlehanded, 1 to rob a stage. One of the mala passengers resisted, and a scuffle ensued, during which your revolver was discharged and a female passenger wits struck by the bullet. She uttered a cry and sank down. Then, to your horror, you saw that she was your wife. Thinking her dead, you fled, evaded pursuers, changed your name, and have lived since then with the belief that her blood was on your hands. , “But your wife did not die! She had left her son in safe keeping, while she sought for her husband, hoping to find him and obtain his forgiveness, for she jthought herself to blame for the quarrel that had separated them. She finally recovered from the bullet wound, but she did not again take up the search till her boy was large enough to aid and accompany her. I

jtm her son and yours, and at last we have found you, father." “I thank God that she lives and I ana not a murderer!” exclaimed Lorenzo Hatch. “Where is she—my darling wife?" “Here, Loren!” The strange woman, who had purchased Joe Punty’s cabin, glided into the room. In a moment, husband and wife were clasped in each other’s arms—reunited! After the first joy of the reunion was over, the man asked: *‘My dear wife, why did you not come directly to me when you first found me?'’ '1 *T did not know how I would be received,” she replied. “You appeared very strange, and some said you were crazy.” * ‘lt is a wonder that I am not If sorrow and. happiness can wreck a man’s reason, it is a miracle that l am not a maniac today. But, thank God! I am in my own mind, and once more my true self. Pandy Small is dead forever.” As soon as he was strong enough to endure the journey, the reunited family started for the east where they were to begin life anew with the small fortune that Lorenzo Hatch had saved while he was known as “Pandy Small.”—Yankee Blade. A Startling Coincidence. In the year 1664, on the sth day ot December, the English ship Menai was crossing the straits and capsized in a gale. Of the 81 passengers on board but one was saved; hie name was Hugh ■ Williams. On the same day, in the year 1785, a pleasure schooner was wrecked on tho Isle of Man. Thera were 60 persons on the boat, among them one Hugh Williams and hit family. Of the three score none but old Hugh Williams survived the shock. On the sth day of August, 1820, a' picnicking party of the Thames was run down by a coal barge. There were 25 of the picnickers, most children under 12 years of age. Little Hugh Williams, a visitor from Liverpool, only 5 years old, was the only one that returned to tell the tale. Now come* the most singular part of this singular story: On the 19th day of August, in the year of our Lord, 1889, a Leeds coal barge, with nine men, foundered; two of them, both Hugh Williams, aa uncle and nephew, were rescued by some fishermen, and were the only men of the crew who lived to tell of tho calamity. These are facts which can be substantiated, says the Leeds (England) Mercury. The latest, kind of thieves that New York has produced are men who make a business of stealing toothpicks. They lounge around tho cashier's desk in large hotels and restaurants, and. when no one else is loosing, press their hands on the toothpicks, whioh are standing-end up, and then withdraw their into -. convenient pocket Dainty but Dangerous. Her enchanting little boot From beneath her jaunty suit Ventured out. That she know its witching chant Without meaning any harm, » Who could doubt? So I wooed tne charming maid, First enchantsd, as I said, By her boot Now, alas! I’m well aware Boots and tempers seldom are Built to suit ■The Chicago Tribune advertises for tivelvo hoalthy boy babtos. It wants to rear them in absolute soolusiou and ignorance for a jury on the Cronin case. The Empire of Japan has 37»0 >,\o >"1 inhabitants who are slowly but surely adopting Western customs in dress as well as in civ Ulsatioo and methods of researoh.