- V
)
SHORTY.
BY H. ANNETTE POOLE.
He was not much to look at,
freckled and snub-nosed, shabby
fo the last degree as to his clothes,
and with the latest slang phrase
at his tongue’s end. And yet
Shorty had his good points. He
was scrupulously honest, and no
one could be kinder-hearted. He
mas clean, or at least cleaner
than one might expect him to be.
and although the patches on knees
and elbows might vary startling
Ij- in color from the groundwork
of the garment they adorned, still
the patches were there in a ma
jorlty of the places where they
Were needed. His red hair was
no ft and wavy, and his blue eyes
looked the wTorld squarely in the
face.
A boy who is thruRt out into the
world as Shorty had been, to
snatch his living as best he may,
learns to be sharp and distrust
ful, and it is much to Shorty's
credit that he retained his hon
esty intact, and even a remnant of
kindly feeling. Small blame to
him if he had snatched at every
penny, honestly or otherwise, and
had harbored a rooted distrust
of everybody and everything.
7?'As to his living, lie earned it by
Belling pajiers on the train. The
day of neatly uniformed newsboys
had not yet dawned. As to his
abode—well, nobody knew exact
ly where Shorty did live, that is,
nobody who came in contact with
him from day to day. In reality
he lived with his sister Johanna
up ever so many flights of stairs,
where when Shorty ran up at his
top speed, whistling merrily, one
door after another would open, and
heads would be thrust out with
admonitions to “stop that noise,”
to which commands, it must tie
confessed, Shorty paid very little
attention.
Once upstairs there were two
rooms; one which served for kitch
en, dining-room and parlor, and
a stuffy, closet-like place, where
Johanna slept. As for Shorty,
he curled up at night on an old
lounge in the kitchen, seldom go
ing through the formality of re
moving anything more than his
shoes; in the winter it was warm
er, and in the summer it was con
venieut.
Johanna used to say: “I mis
doubt me, Terry, but you’5re a
good deal of a pig,” for Shorty's
name, as it stood on the baptismal
record of the church, was Terence
Muldoon. Life was rather hard
for Johanna Muldoon, for when
she climbed painfully upstairs she
clasped one knee in both hands,
and lifted her foot from step to
step.and when she went down, she
sat down and slid from one step
to another, so she went down as
seldom as possible. Hhe made
buttonholes and sewed on buttons
__.4.. ~ M _ l... 4.
vii (I (l I' VIVl UU l
work was not always plenty, and
she had many anxious hours.
Shorty, however, never wor
ried; it was not in his nature. He
was always on hand with the
morning paper as the early train
pulled out of the station. He used
to ride down to the next stopping
place, and come back on the first
train up, having regular custom
ers on them both.
The train ran through a pretty
stretch of country, with flower
gardens and apple orchards on
both sides, and the train hands
knew by sight all the people in the
different houses they passed. In
one, an old lady always sat at tin*
window with a pleased, interested
face. In others little children
waved chubby hands. The engi
neer and conductor bowed to peo
ple daily for years, without know
ing their names. For a time the
governor of tin* state lived on the
line and went home at every
week’s end to sing in the choir and
teach a class of boys in the Sun
day school. Shorty sold him a pa
per regularly on Monday morning
for a long time. ‘Tie’s a good fel
ler that guv’nor,” said Shorty.
One little fellow about three
years old was always out to see
the train go by. He wore a little
white sunbonnet and his favorite
possession seemed to Ik* a little
red cart. One day, just as the
train passed the house, Shorty,
passing from one ear to another,
tossed a big red apple to the child,
I whose delight was unbounded.
After that, Shorty had something
for the little fellow nearly every
day, a bright little picture book,
a banana, or a stick of candy.
riae child would stretch his chub
luy nanus up to eaten megui, ami
i dance a funny little jig, while his
sister would hang onto his skirts
as if to keep him from flying away
altogether. Train hands and pas
sengers all learned to look for
‘•the kid,’’ as Shorty called him, on
?very morning trip.
But ope bright morning in early
summer the train was very late.
The train from the west was de
layed by an accident, and the
southbound local had orders to
wait for it. As it passed the house
where the little boy lived Shorty
came out on the platform as
usual, but the child was not in
sight. The lad glanced about,
fearful lest the little one might
have wandered onto the track.
Sure enough, there was the lit
tle red cart on the other track,
right in the path of the uptrain,
which could now be seen just leav
ing the station below, Shorty s
heart came into his mouth at the
sight, for where was that baby?
Not on the track, but on the
sloping bank that led from the
railroad ditch up to the fence, the
little white bonnet was bobbing
up and down as its wearer trotted
gleefully from one clump of
daisies to another. Just as
Shorty caught sight of him he
dropped down on his chubby
knees and crawled under the fence
after a particularly fascinating
bunch on the other side. He was
safely out of the way now if only
be did not take it into his head to
return.
“If he sees the train, he’ll be
cornin' back after the cart, sure,
and then he'll Ik* killed," thought
Shorty. “An’ the cart’ll be
smashed anyhow, an’ then the
kid’ll break his heart. Guess I
can yank it off. Here goes, any
how!"
With boyish recklessness, he
swung himself off the bottom
step, facing in the direction the
train was going, and throwing
himself toward the other track as
he thought of the cruel wheels be
hind him. Itut the momentum
was greater than he had sup
posed, and running rapidly for
ward with no power to stop him
self, he tumbled ignoininiously
upon his nose, and with the eon
sciousness that one foot “wouldn’t
go,” he seized the little red cart
and rolled with it down the bank,
feeling as he went the jar of tie*
train as it thundered by and came
to a standstill. When Shorty
opened his eyes the engineer was
on his knees close by his head.
X ou time root:" saul he, hut
witha queer twist in his voice that
belied his words. Shorty opened
his mouth to reply, but emitted in
stead a howl of pain. Somebody
was manipulating his ankle in a
way he did not like at all and a
cnlm, measured voice, somewhere
in the vicinity of his feet, was say
ing: “There are no bones broken,
but it is a bad sprain, and he must
be kept off his feet for some time
to come.”
“That’s the doctor feller that
comes up every mornin’,” thought
Shorty, “an’ that chap writin’ in
a little book iH that newspaper
feller. It’ll be in the paper to
night how I took a tumble.” And
then he became a wan* of “the kid”
dashing joyously up and down the
bank with the red cart, and jam
ming it recklessly against the
shins of everybody within reach.
It was half full of daisies.
“Well,” said the engineer, “we
can’t hang ’round here all day,”
and he lifted Shorty in his arms
and carried him up the bank to the
car. Shorty could speak right
Into his ear.
“I owe the feller with red whis
kers what alwers sits on the left
Bide, two cents,” said he. “He’s
the feller what’s alwers kickin’
’coz the cars is too hot or too cold.
The conductor’ll know. Hut, any
how, I saved the kid’s cart!”
“And the kid,” the engineer
whispered hack, “he was j„8t (.G
in^ up the hank!” Hut Shorty h id
fainted quite away.—OrangejUdd
Farmer.
High-Priced Passage.
The general tendency 0„ trans
atlantic liners lias been to make
travel more expensive for the
rich and cheaper for the poor. One
of the Bremen steamers has a
suite of rooms costing $2,000 per
passage.—X. Y. Post.
Wanted the Money.
Thibetan soldiers, made prison
ers by the British, were asked
whether they would enter the
British service. They said they
would if they were always paid in
advance.
300TS UNDER HIS FILLOW.
When Traveling That Is Where Gen
eral Fred Grant Always
Puts Them.
Gen. Fred Grant always sleep*
with his boots under his head
when he is traveling on a train an4
quite frequently when he puts up
'or the night in a strange placer
says the St. Paul Globe.
The story of how he formed this
labit came out. one night several
»» u u uww 11 rt > rll I
behold the general occupied in
carefully tucking his foot cover
ing underneath the pillows of his
sleeping car berth.
“I guess I’ll never break the
habit,” said the general in his
slow, easy-going way, “no mat
ter how much I'm laughed at, as
you’re doing now. Hut once it
was no laughing matter to me, I
can tell you.
“While the civil! war was being
fought I was a cadet in West
Point. One summer when voca
tion time was close at hand my
father promised nae that I could
spend it in the field with him, and
as soon as I was permitted to leave
the academy on furlough I took
the train south to-join him.
“I was in high spirits until I
awoke from a tine night’s slumber
and started to pust on my boots.
To my horror they were not where
I had placed them, and though I
searched for them high and low
they were not to be found. Some
rascal had walked off with them
in the night and he had also helped
himself to my hat, as I discovered!
later on.
“I was in a niire dilemma and!
matters were helped only slightly
by the porter scurrying around
and finally raking up a pnir of di
lapidated rubbers and an old hat
that looked as if it had been,
through a seusoo’s campaigning.
But I had to make the best of the
Bituation and when I stepped
forth into the cold world at Waa-hi
ington 1 must have presented an
amusing spectacle us regards head
and feet.
“I didn’t have enough money
with me to buy new boots and hat;
neither was I armed with any let*
nr All I /I *• M tVl A oKciTl.
keepers confidence in me. There
was only one thing to do, and I did
it. I tramped around Washing
ton looking up rny father’s friend*,
and when 1 found one I pottred mv
troubles into his ears and he gra
cing y advanced me the price of
the art teles of clothing 1 needed
most. And you can rest assured
that when I took my boots off that
nig.; I I alep upon them, and I’ve
been doing so ever since.”
HAIR THAT TURNS WHITE.
Sudden Loss of Color May Be Account
ed For by the Fact That It
Is “Emotional.’'
Once in awhile we hear of per
sons whose hair has “turned white
in a night,” and we have wondered
why it was. This and other phe
nomena may be accounted for by
the fact that hair is “emotional,”
says the Chicago Journal.
Xpt only is “emotional” hair
well known to medical specialists,
but every hairdresser of experi
ence recognizes it frequently in
connection with his own custom
ers.
With some peculiarly consti
tuted jKMtple the hair is affected
by every passing emotion, and
not only does it reach the extreme
crispness or limpness within a
verv few hour*, but it varies iu
color vastly.
This latter peculiarity is so well
recognized by every hair dresser
that some members of that calling
are prepared to say definitely of a
given regular customer: “Blank
is not well, or he has some great
trouble on his mind just now.
Many a man who appears ex
ceedingly gray era one day is com
paratively dark haired the next,
and cases are known where the
single white locks of hair that
sometimes are found on a head
otherwise wholly black have dis
appeared almost entirely and
then come again. That is to say,
the white tuft has gone black like
the surrounding hair, and has be
come white again, and so on.
Remarkable Surgical Feat.
During a public house row in a
London slum a man was stabbed
to the heart and when taken to the
hospital seemed almost at the
point of death. The night sur
geon on duty proceeded to sew up
the cut and the patient began at
once to improve. In a compara
tively short time ho had recovered.
TISTING CHRONOMETER.
Delicate Timepieces Kept on Ice for
Months for Accurate Ad
justment.
Each year the chronometers of
the United States navy are sub
jected to a test to determine their
accuracy and to correct any irreg
ularities. This operation com
memos in January and usually
lasts until the middle <»i June, and
during that time these delicate
timepieces are kept: on ire at the
United States naval observatory.
It is not for any fear that they will
spoil that they am- subjected to
tills frigid experience;.but it is nec
essary for the purpose of accurate
adjustment that they should all be
maintained in a constant temper
ature.
The necessity of having a ship's
clocks all absolutely alike will be
realized by the layman when he is
reminded that air error of four see
onds in the chronometer means an
error of a mile nrouLculating the
vessel's location. The tempera
ture varies at different times of
the test from fiOtn '.W degrees and
the losing or gaining qualities of
the chronometer under these con
ditions are accurately kept. Thus
with a chart expressing in curves
just what h<* may expect from his
chronometer under different con
ditions of climatic,, and. with his
thermometer and barometer close
at hand, a sailing master may cal
culate to a nicety the correct time
and get his locution to a certainty.
CHARACTER OF AN OATH.
Witness Thought It Was Like a Note
with Whiffh Some Peoplfc
Pay Debts.
One of tile- lawmakers from far
away Oregon, where there is plen
ty of go Id'and silver, tells »f a wit
ness who gave his explanation of
what con^tmtnted an oatJk relates
the Washington Times.
t'ol. Timmins, a one Ifenrse law
ver, had (contracted a <<fbt whhfh
it seemed he never intended to
liuqidate. Suit was instituted ori
the note, but the colonel swore the
note off. However* the plaintiff
proved the debt and obtained
judgment. Not Ioe^ after thUthe
rolonel was interested in anethei
ease in court, and was crossHtpies
tioning one of tlw witnesses.a gen
tleman who had been interested ir
the colonel’s case in the suit on the
note.
‘‘Do you know the nature of ar
oath?” asked the colonel.
‘•1 think l do,”answered the wit
ness.
‘‘Then tell the judge and jur
what it is.”
“A oath is like a note—a lega
tender with which some people tr
to pay tlieir debts.”
Softest Language.
The Turkish language is said b,
scholars to be the softest an<
most musical of modern times, I*1
ing better adapted to the purpose
of musical notation and recitatioi
than even the Italian.
[ City Directory, j
MUNICIPAL OFFICERS'
Mayor, J. H. Ilolderby,
Recorder, O. F. Craig,
Marshal, Walter.Pascoe,
Treasurer, E. J. Madness,
A5dermen:- Fred. I). Whiting,’-W. T.
Muteness, Morg Drennen, W. 0. Mims,
andiC. M. Edwards.
| Council meets first Monday night, in
‘ eao)i> month.
CHURCHES
Methodist church, services-at lii, a.
in and 7:30 p. m. fourth Sunday in
each month. Rev. C. II. Newman,
Pastor.
Baptist church, services at 3 p. m.
Saturday before third Sunday,and! 11
a. rn- third Sunday in each month.
Rev. J. L. Brown, pastor.
Christian church, services first and
third'Sundays in each month-at Ilia,
m. andi 7:30 p. m. Rev. W. W. Young,
i Boston.
FKATKRNITI KS
Dannelly Chapter B. A. M. meets
third Saturday night. I. C. NackoHs,
j E. H- P:;T. II. Rearing, Sec.
Newark Lodge F. & A. M. No. its
uieetSr secend Sat urday nightj ri" J.
j Raney,. W. M.; J. If. Jimerson, See.
Newark Encampment I. O. OuF. 168
! meets-second and fourth Thursday
nights.' G. A. Ashley, C. P; VAX Hoyt,
Scribo.
Newark Lodge I. O. O. F. No, 2fi.t
meets the first and third Wednesday
nights. T. J. Haney, N\ G; O.-Fl C.-aig
Secretary.
Newark Camp W.O.W. No. 288 moets
second and fourth Tuesday niglitarin
each month. E. H. Mag ness, 0. C.;
(). F. Omig, Clerk.
I ndepentfetice Lodge No. 2373 dfi &
L. of II. meets first and tnird Monday
nights' in each month. (>, ».F; C-«ig,
Protector; Zed Griffith, Secretary.
Railroad Time Card,
WHITE RIVER BRANCH
Si. L. I. M. & S. Ry.
Train* pass Newark as follows*
GOING WKST^
No.J2T..12,-i1 p. m.
No,. 1 i£C'. ,8.o» a. m.
GOING HAST.
Nou ! tiA.. ...Salt a. m.
Non.llik.77^2 p. m.
F. C. Hovt# Agent.
S. A. MOORE,
ATTORNEY'- AT - lLAW, §
and Notary PnbaiC,
Hand titles, at (ministration, damage
c;twe* and collectors a spyurfulfy. Will
pmictice in all courts of tl»s»ate.
Office in P ekt <Mfice IfcwMing,
NIKITA KK, - AKKANKAS.
A. A. IIENDEKSON
Notary Public
M a jjes a sp&u*fd*y of
Writing and Cornecting Deed‘d
, Office ia The Journal Building-.
j Cal* at
J. QUALLS’
BOOT ANU SHOE SHOP
For Legal Advise.
J. T. MILLER;
Physician and Surgeon
Offiee Back of John Martin’s Store.
Reswte-ne* Phone Xa B3.
Otlke Phone .... No. 7(i.
CALLS PROMPTLY ATTENDED.
CITY BARBER SHOP
First class in every respect
Up-to-Now- Artists.
Sharp Knives. Clean Towels.
( J. L. Crosser Proprietor.
A. D. HOLLAND,
Dentist,
t
1 Newport, - Arkansas
Buy your mortgages, deeds and
legal blanks at The Journal office.