The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-12-11
"LEFTENANT JIM."
A STORY OF THANKSGIVING DAY.

Time-About IL o'clock, A.. n. OF s
November morning, 1864 dead SKY
above and dead earth beneath, as they
are seen in dreams.
Place-A little. creek wedged in be-
tween two high banks, and allow rickety
bridge over the creek, whose three-foot
depth of water was filmed with ice
water whose sleeping ripples had not
been wakened by the sun.
Persona shabby, scarcrow sort o!
man bending over the rail, leaning the
while on his arm. The figure hardly
seemed q man. Its once black hat Of
felt was rusty-hued. and haggled with
gashes, out of which sprouted thin
punches of jet black hair. The brim
was pulled down, front and rear. The
coat, once part of nobby summer suit,
was dirty, stained by rain, bleached by
shine, aili trimmed with holes, the scut.
ting leaks of unostentatious ill-for.
tune.
The rcpose of man and nature was
suddenly and sharply ended. A tuneless
whistle broke out behind one of the
banks feeble, wavering spirit of hor.
rible discord-such q sound as only 9
little boy can make with cheeks and
lips. The man turned his head little.
Through the air sailed a speck. II
dropped upon the arm of the lounger.
It was stone. It hurts, for the man
stood erect, uttered IN oath, and turned
his face 10 the road down which now
trudged small boy. The youngster
and the whistle stopped as they reached
the bridge. The face frightened the
boy. It was thin, haggard, and savage,
with black beard of fortnight's
growth, and wild eyes that showed by
their setting how hunger had crowded
them back and pinched the nose and
cheeks not cruel face, all in all, but
one made pitiable by hopelessness and
starvation.
8 "You young rascal" he said, catch.
ing the little fellow and giving him a
gentle shake "I've good mind to drop
you into the river and let the minnows
Eight for you. What did you bit me for,
eh ?'
The captive, more frightened than
hurt, yelled at the first touch, and then
boy.fashion, dropped to tears.
"What did J on mean ?" asks the man,
suddenly softening in temper and
speech, and putting his hand, with
kindly touch, on the little fellows
head.
"I didn't mean nothin'," sobbed the
child. "I-Iwas only tryin' to whistle. u
cha ha That was it, eh? You
made very bad note in your tune,
don't you know? You pegged me with
stone. The stone hurt, hurt even q
fellow like me-"
81 didn't mean to-" says the child.
"Of course not. I know that now.
You couldn't see me. I'll apologize
Now stop crying, cheer up, call it even,
and let's be friends Is it bargain ? u
But tho sobs would come up and the
tears fill the eyes. The boy had sprung
a leak and seemed likely to sink. The
man became nervous. He might fright.
en- a grown.up fellow, and enjoy the
victory but az to this child-well he
was heartily ashamed OF himself. Sc
he tried the strategy of wealth. He
thrust one hand into the ruins of pock
ct. It worked abunt therein like the
scoop of dredge. 1t Came to the en-
trace. full of debris.
"See here, little one | " he cries, get
ting down upon bis knees, and spreading
his collection upon the boards. "Jus
look here! Isn't this bric-a-brac, al
they call it?" That's brass button
useless for want of button hole. Thai
+. comb I'll keep for my party-going hair
Yes know you have one. That's to
bacco, but you don't chew. This fa
jack.knife is no good, for it will not cut
I only keep it because it shuts mp wher
I want to talk. Ugh! Don't touch
that for it's vile tobacco. Here's 6
key to house I never owned. Let me
seel. That, guess, is bread done up il
tobacco. Well "cast that upon the
waters, pitching it into the creek
Wheat-the last of my crops. String
you can't eat that and there's not enough
for a kite. All Here we have it.
"the sad remains of an ill-spent life
and he Topped in the palm of his hanG
! dingy five-cent piece. Now sonny;
wiring out your eyes, stop crying, make
friends with me, and the money is yours
for candy or the misaionary-bo1, as you
choose. Is it bargaina"
g. The boys eyes frightened. He swal
8 lowed his sobs, put out his hand, tool
the money and said-"Thank you! ,
His captor laughed.
"That's the way of the world, Johnny
boy. You can always buy silence fol
grief. Remember that, when you come
to make your will. As I've paid you
for five cents worth of misery, show me-
the candy storeI' He had said all thil
in grave way, just as if he were talking
to some one who could understand him
and the boy had looked on just as if ht
did not (Which was the fact) compre
hend what was meant. But "candy
store" were two words of one meaning
for him, and he became guide where
| heretofore, he had not even followed,
"It's at Winscom," he said.
"And where is that, my cherub ?"
"Over the hill there. was going K
it when you cotched me-"
.'Tut! tut Don't say cotched
Say caught"
"Caught p
Excellent. Now I'm going t.
Winscom. Somebody in it owes me
big dinner for not giving me my break
fast. Will your royal littleness-tha
is to say, Johnny, will you ride?"
"Where's your horses ?" asks tn
boy.
"In my boots. infant Oh, yo'
needn't look for them. They're sure t.
be out at the toes, when you want 'em
Don't be afraid. I'm a tramp, and II
hungry; but I don't eat little boys
Steady, DOW, sit on my shoulder |"
With laugh. and whistle as sharI
3 as moeking- birds, he swung the chill
: to his shoulder, settled him firmly an
moved slowly and with labored step
over the road to Winscom, his ride
aglow the while with boyish exultation
and chirruping like q jockey.
Let me down !" shouts the boy, a
they arrive in the outskirts of Wins
oom. live in that houae Oh, papa
papa T.
81