Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1874-04-14
Pete.

I'm Pete. An I'm newsboy. This
story amt writ by me. coz can't write.
Nor cant read. so ii anything's took
down wrong, it won't be my fault.
"a gentleman in one Of our offices says
TO me: You tell me the story Of your
young IN. an I'll take it down. and gi.
it pritned in st. Nicholas An he says TO
begin at the VERY begiunin,' wen iust
seed my young un-a little chap wot
foun' arter his father died, an he handt
nothin' but fiddle in the world. When
| iust goes up 10 him in the Park, down
to City Hall, and ask him TO play. he
takes his stick an pulls it acrost the
strings. an makes the wust Mise ye ever
heard in yer life. lie felt so took down
when | laughed that asked him. serious.
to keep nj it. till he says. lookin' up inter
my face, drediul disappointed. "They's
awful Mise, ain't they ?" / says. Wal.
no; I've heerd the cats make ten times
wuss ones nor that. guess it II como
some times if ye keep tryin'."
80 he hugged up his fiddle an we
started down to the corner. An / says.
"W'ere air ye goin'?" AN lie says.
"Now'cres." An says, Don't yc live
now'eres?" An he says, No" An l
says here wasn't no use in it. fur ho
couldn't no more take keer O. hissell than
a baby ken, an he'd have to live with
me. An he says, Twill you take care o.
ME ?" An says. "Yes. will" An
that's the way he como to be my young
un.r
Il axed him wot was his name. an
can't tell yer it, iur il was one O. them
BANNED furrin names. an l couldn't
never get il right. SO | allus called him
ies Young Un." An he axed me wot
was my name, an telled him, pete" an
then we knowed each other.
"W'cre do you live Pete ?" he says; an
sez. "Wal, live roun'-jes about roun'
here, guess. Ye see, moved this
mornin'" An he says, Were did ye
move to-" An that was a sumner. |
war'nt nowsboy, then, ye know; I.was
only n loafer. But seed n airy 30 |
says, "Wal, we'll wait till all The lights
is put down stairs in this house. an then
weIl live here ternight. But we mus 60
fust an git our bed a(ore it's dark" l
says. SO we walks roun' to lot were
they was buildin', an lie waits vile digs
out the bed from under pile O. stones.
Yer see, had to bury it in The mornin's
fur fear O. rag.pickers, cause it was a
VERY good bed an coml'table. specially
in arires. "Wot was it2 1t was q olo
piece o. carpet wot loun' Nv house
wunst arter some people moved away
from it, an it was ez long ez-ez long ez
you air, sir, an longer, too. / takes it
under my arm, an the Young un hols on
10 my other ham and VIC finds the airy
again. But has 10 lay rouan' good vile
lore the lights is put out. Wen it's all
dark we goes down the steps. an l rolls
up the carpet kind O. loose an tells him
to crawl inside it. "Will ther' bc room
fur the fiddle, too ?" he says; 'coz. if tier
won't don't mind, ken sleep outside.
Pete" An he looks so Worried that
sings out, "Of course ther' will Do
you think I'd leave the fiddle out ter
cotch his death o. cold an be laid up an
tooken to the orspiial" AN that makes
him laugh, an then he crawls in fust. an
crawls in last, an then, theer we was.
all OF us squeedged up comftable tc-
geiher. From "Pete," by Mrs. Lucy @.
Morse. in 81. Nicholas for January.