The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1872-07-12
The Boy.


can see that day. White eumuli
were heaped over the wood tops, but the
middle sky was blue and clear Though
I was doing on saloon step, this day
of beauty got even through my waver-
ing sight. Perhaps I sat there an hour,
perhaps an age, in which the blinks
got were the recurring days.
It suddenly occurred 10 me that such
a long continuance of fine weather ought
to be enjoyed more actively. But the
world whirls, as everybody knows.
mumbled 4 number of jokes on nature
as staggered abroad. After tiresome
journey, / came upon an alley and
group of boys travelling through a game
of marbles on their knees like penitents
stumping through Jerusalem. And in
their midst was Billy. Billy was q no
BILE looking boy. / paused and tried to
get into position to look at him. | felt
a maudlin pride in Billy. He had
Morals blue eyes. blessed Nora? She
was gone where she couldn't be cursed
any more, poor little broken-hearted
thing,)
As Billy photographed himself in my
eyes, his bright hair blowing, his lusty
fingers gouging pit for his marble, the
contrast between what he and / were
born TO be and what We were, struck me
like bullet.
had tried TO reform. o, yes. And
every failure was a link in my chain.
l was utterly given over to the snakes
and fuTies.
Now, here was Bill walking in my
vagrant steps-a vicious Arab in beauti-
ful Cacausian guise.
'Say, Bill,n begged one of the tribe,
casting a covetcus eye on his Industrious
jaws, "let me chaw your wax awhile ?'
Bill, with graceful generosity and
contempt of gain, tossed it over, saying:
''Therel you can take il and keep il;
| don't want il no morew
While / stood in drunken dOlor
against the fence, the group whiTled up
suddenly into maelstTom; the center
TO which they were all sucked was a
steadfast rock with churning fists and
yellow top.
"Billr' I shouted in fury; "come here,
you young scoundrelr'
Hearing my voice over the brOil, he
dashed through the boys and came, cry
ing, bloody and ruf1ied.
what are you fighting about ," /
asked, standing in tremulous judgment
over him.
Il can't tell you, father" he answered,
bravely. What! Even the boy despised
and dared me. / lifted my hand and
felt that I could kill him.
Take that, then, and that, you little
wretch I'll show you how to be bully
and turn against your own fatherw ~
My muscular hand brought fright
ful blood gush out of his bruised face. |
thought he should feel that his father
was solid man in one respect, if the
rest OF my body was a mass of moist
wretchedness.
The boy, the boy. groan when I re-
member it,
'Oh, don't, father,r he begged, wiring
ing his little dirty hands. s'Oh, father,
please don't strike me, and I'll tell YOU
all about IT. The boys said you was n
drunken old blOat, and Pll fight any
body that calls you that, father; / will
if you kill me FOR it,
! sat prone down upon the ground.
That was the hardest blow ever had
"Get up, father said Billy, casting
4 look of bloody and warlike glance be-
hind him, "and I'll help you along"
l took hold of him, but q weakness
not born of rum kept me at his cracked
stubby little feet. There was no one in
the world who cared whether ! rose ol
went on down but him. He cared.
put my arms around the boy and cried
against him. No more drunken, glaz-
ing repentance for me. Every tear was
hard as a pearl with resolution. The
good Christ appeared that instant in
His love and long suffering, through the
boy, as plainly rs he appeared to the
dying Sir Launfal through the leper.
When on earth He was always going
about picking up the abominable, and
since He has left the earth He sends for
Ihem 10y messengers they cannot help
Men shouid respect in me that spark
~nlch the hoy respected. | would show
MN n WhaI a grand, oVermastering thing
values. S'OiS
Don't cry, father" requested Billy.
whlle ne ceased not to paint bloody sun
was that little face TO me. His o,.os
looked blue and more heayen-like than
the sky. '''''
"Do you love your father ." | asked.
holding to him like woman.
rrYes, sir; Pll lick anybody that call.
you names,n the bright, tender firma.
ments in his face gushing with another
shower.
A horizontal hail of mud and pebbles
hit us while he was speaking. Bill,
reared up like a charger snufiing tn,
battle afar of. But l made him retrea
from the enemy's lines.
When the boy and | were laid a
night i'm a low tavern, which was ou
only home, I asked with my face turneS
from him: 'Billy, will you help you
father to try once more Upon which
he jumped up and pumped my arm viii