Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 87, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 July 1899 — JIMMY WALLACE. [ARTICLE]

JIMMY WALLACE.

Diminutive Negro Pet of the Ninth United Ftatee Cavalry. A dog often makes a good regimental pet, but from an article in the New York Sun It appears that the Ninth United States Cavalry has a pet that excelled at least one boy’s admiration. What it Is will be seen from reading the Sun’s account of a visit made by a boy and his mother to Camp Wikoff at Montauk Point. They had had a meet interesting day, and on the way home the mother asked the boy what he had enjoyed most. Without hesitation he replied: “Oh, Jimmy Wallace!” For a moment she was surprised; then she realized that from a boy's standpoint Jimmy Wallace probably was the greatest attraction in that strange oily of tents by the sea. She had first seen him early in the afternoon, a small black boy, with a sweet, childish face, gazing up into an officer’s eyes with adoring approbation. The officer was saying: “Now, Jimmy, don’t do it again. You gave me an awful scare when they said that they could not find you. I thought you had got on some train and been carried off. Don’t wander far from the camp!” And Jimmy touched his ridiculous cap in true military style and scampered away. Later the woman found him adjusting his suspender on the one button of his ragged trousers, and for a blissful ten minutes she and her son had Jimmy all to themselves. At first he was shy, as any Important little boy might have been; but presently he lost himself In the glory of his achievements and possessions, and then indeed Jimmy was brilliant. “I did live down in Tampa,” he said, “but I didn’t have no folks, so de Ninth Cavalry dey took me ’long wlid dem to Cuba.” “I suppose you were in the battle at Santiago?” the woman asked, with a smile. “Yessum, I was, an’ I didn’t iilde. I stood Tong by de Colonel all de time. I saw de Spaniards all covered up wid leaves like de trees, an’dey shot at us like murder. An’ sometimes dey yell out, ‘We’se Cubans!’ an’ den when we uns went up close dey’d fire on us. Yessum, an’ I wasn’t scared. I just ran after de Colonel.” After a pause he went on, looking regretfully down at his airy costume: ‘Tse got a suit just like de boys, an’ a gun, an’ a little Spanish pony named Buffalo Bill an ’a mule named Jack, an’ I’se got a little tent all fur myself up on de hill by de Colonel's—an’—an’— dat’s what I got!” with a final burst of pride. The woman could not believe all that he told her, for he was certainly not more than ten years old, so she went to one of the Ninth Cavalry and questioned him. Yes, It was all true, the trooper said, but the boy had left out one item more touching than all the rest Willie he was standing by the Colonel in the battle of Santiago a bullet went clean through his left foot, and when he was lifted up to be carried back with the wounded he said: “I’se glad I got de ball 'stead ob de Colonel.” When the woman left camp at night she spied Jimmy Wallace in a sidetracked parlor-car eating a slice of watermelon which almost hid him from her view. “Good-night, Jimmy!” she called. “But why did you not tell us about how you were wounded?” Down went the watermelon and all the white teeth showed. “Why, I done forgot dat!” he said, and again he attacked the melon. “Poor little fellow!” she murmured. “Poor!” exclaimed her little boy. “Why, I’d rather be Jimmy Wallace than President McKinley!”