River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1877-08-23
The Waif of DeadwOod.

I
tors also, were for a moment diverted
from the contemplation of sundry piles
of /" chips and some other matters per-
tanning to gambling by the appearance
of small boy in their midst He was
an uncommon boy, too, because no COM
mon boy would have gone of his own ac-
cord into the Minerva saloon.
Young chap, where did you come
frcm, and who are you, anyhow"
My names Jim, and cum up here
from Cheyenne to make stamps like all
the rest. Don't you want boy here
boss?n
"A boyl Major, do you hear that9
The boy wants place here. Jim's his
name, he says"
Yes, and / reckon we'd best take him,
too; only what'll we do with him. that's
what don't know. Jim, where's your
folksl"
"Dunn no-home, spect."
"And where's thatln
IL don't like to tell you that; and you
don't know emmy folks--so what's
the use in tellin' all about EN-, ehl"
"That boy is sharp, major, sharp
And you want place here, boy, do your
Yes, boss; I'm lookin' for a place.
| can shine boots, and do most any
thing. l never cusses and swears, but l
like to smoke cigar butts and whole ones
too"
"Shine, can you. Now let's see how
you can shine before we hire you for
steady work"
And Major Showers left the ''look out :"
seat at the faro game to test the capacity
of the small boy who wished for a place.
Major Showers was gambler-a faro
dealer; and his partner, doc Puffer,
had earned the curses, because he had
been the ruin of more than one poor fell
low
This boy, Jim, was certainly the only
small boy without an owner in Dead
wood. 1t was wonder how such little
waif came away there in the Black Hills.
His own statement of it was perhaps as
good as any;
al jest kept comm til l got here,
boss; that's the way it was
and that shine of yours, Jim, amt
quite up to what we're used to here; but
mebbe you'll improve. You see, we dom
care what it costs, but we must have the
best"
That was the only bargain ever made
with the boy; but he became presently,
and curiously, too, part and parcel Of the
establishment. Like a rare painting or a
curiosity, the lad became an attraction.
His quaint old-manish ways and savings
caused many rough customer, and those
better bred, too, to stop and wonder at
the boy.
Whose little cuss is he, Docl" asked
Joe Bunce, a Deadwood terror, as he
watched the boy till he wholly forgot and
neglected his faro chips.
milne and ma or's.n
"Young fellow, what's your namel"
slim"
Jim whatln out with it, quick or
"Jim--I don't like to tell so l dent.
My mamma wouldn't like me to tell
neither. She said how was going to be
the pride of the family some day, if /
was good boy, Oh, wish l could just
see my mamma Just onst. O--oh."
And torrent of tears told the earnest
love of the lad for his far-away mother
Other eyes, total strangers to such sensa-
tons, were puzzled at the effect of the
boys tears.
"Let the little chap alone, joel You've
Doc abruptly.
The desperate was actually trying to
soothe and caress the lad.
"Then call him Jim Pride, if you want
to-and let him alone"
And so he was called Jim Pride after
that. A very nice boy in his ways, he
remained too, ia spite of the fearful life
around him. And those gamblers of the
Minerva saloon were presently as watch
full and jealous of the welfare and good
morals of their boy as a lover would be
of his mistress.
THE boy don't know anything bad,
and he amt going to learn it from you"
was the quietus Doc and his revolver put
upon the wickedness of more than one
too-talkative desperate.
"Why don't you set up "a Sunday-school
for the boys herel When me and little
Jim here takes hand you'll have to call
in the checks ard close the game, ell,
Doc?N
From nc greater causes'than this banter
Of Joe Bunce with the laugh of others
around the gambling table, came hot
words, and then the inevitable revolvers.
There was in moment cursing shooting,
NCiiS, anu tnC upiOdA VI
barroom fight. Finally the noise ceased
and the crowd came slowly together
again. The faro dealer took his seat
again.
=" Nobody hurt, gentlemen, Now we'll
go on again with the game!"
1t was then that somebody pointed to
corner. A little bunch of clothes lay
there behind chair.
"Oh, God.n cried the dealer spring
ing up and throwing away his box and
cards. "It's our little boy, Jim. Dead
yes, dead And l wish il was me. l
wish it was me and not him! !"
The next day Deadwood had a funeral
"a very sad one. There was a small
rough coffin into which the entire popu-
lation in town gazed earnestly and tear
fully. Many rough and some cruel
hands suddenly became strangely tender
and wished to help bear away the coffin.
No one knew the boys real name; but
there is a marble slab at his grave. Was
it 8 tender chord in gamblers heart that
prompted this inscription
Under this bit of turf, under this forest tree,
Waiting for God to CALL lies the pride of the
family"