Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-10-28
Ole Sturp Teller.
TOM: FANSHAW'S LUCK.
CHAPTER I.

the window and looked out. A cold, aggra
waiting December morning; nothing to be
seen except the candle he held in his hand
and his own unshaven, unwashed visage
gluwering sulkily at him. His wife, CHEEKY
iittle body, was on her knees, before the CRATE,
trying TO kindle the embers Of last nights lire
with the bellows.
"Come, Tom," she said, "look sharp, or
you'll be late Drat the fire, it won't light,
and 6rewood's SO awful dear" She drew a
little bundle from its hiding-place, and light
ed match beneath it. There, thatll do,
now. What sort of morning is it p
"Don't jaw. l declare its an abominable
shame"
What particular abuse the railroad man
alluded to can never be known, for at this
moment the the baby began to squall and
drowned all other voices in its own. The wife
went to take it up.
"Hush-sh sh bless its little heart, it shall,
80 it shall"
"Warm my Coffee" said Mr.. Fanshaw,
magisterially.
'sYes directly. Did it want its pap, the
precious chicken, did it ?" said Mrs Fanshaw,
as she set on the fire can which did not con-
tain her lords coffee.
Fanshaw buttoned on his uniform and
unused upon the insufficiency of his salary.
In an adjoining room three other small per.
sons awoke, and, running in, clung in their
night-gowns round nanny, and demanded
to be dressed.
"My coffee!'' thundered Fanshaw above
the clamor.
Eyes, directly; only baby must have his
pap first" pleaded Mrs Fanshaw, fastening
toward the fire.
Tom Fanshaw was decidedly cross that
morning. He had full five minutes to spare; /;
but gloomy desire for martyrdom came upon
him.
"Very we'll. see am to have no coffee
this morning." he said, and stalked heroically
out of the house in the direction of the depot,
where it was his fate TO attend the cars arriv-
ing by the train due every morning at seven
o'clock, and at intervals thereafter throughout
the day. AS he stood by the gate he sudden
ly felt something which might be claw, or
mouth, take firm hold of his calf. He gave
little jump, excusable in man who had been
for some time eyeing white bulldog, the
property of shabby dog gfancier, standing
suspiciously close to his legs. Tom Fanshaw
started, but the claw still kept its grasp with
out any of those incisions peculiar to teeth,
and at last he looked down. He saw a long way
below him small boy, a little child not more
than two or three years old, crying bitterly.
After two or three seconds, apparently spent
in making up his mind that it did not intend
to bite, Fanshaw stopped down and looked
more closely. He saw small bit of puck
cred face and two large bits Of chubby hands
and the thing said between its sobs, please,
sir, where's mammy?"
Tom Fanshaw was not, by any means,
hard man, albeit the weather had gone long
way toward making him so so he said kind
": "Hullo, young 'un, what's the row !
Want nanny, Ell ? Well find her in a
minute" as he really thought he should, be-
lieving that the child had strayed from its
mother while she was looking for her baggage
They walked down the platform together, the
big man and the little one, the small hand laid
con6dingly in the great red fist; but no man.
MY was to be found.
Look here, what's to be done?" said Fan
shaw, showing the child to policeman"
'Oh hand him over to me" replied the
knight of the baton. "I'll take him to the
station house, and he'll be claimed in day
or two. Come along, Johnny" The child
frightened at the name it was evidently the
right one.
"Come along, Johnny" repeated the po-
liceman, trying to lead him away. But the
little hand clung to its first protector, and
Mr.. Fanshaw fingered.
"Where are you going to take him?' he
asked. Twenty first Precinct Station: house,
eh? I'll come and look after him in day
or two. Poor little fellow, I suppose the
Commissioners of Charity and Correction will
get him eventually; but there-I've got tor
ments enough at home" He hardened his
heart at the thought of the mornings scene,
and consigned his small charge to the police.
mans care.
Fanshaw related the circumstances to his
wife, and the next morning Mrs. Fanshaw
found time to accompany her husband on a
visit to the station. house, to "look after" lit
tie Johnny.
Mrs F., carried with her couple of oran-
ges and tin trumpet, the con6scated prop
erty of her son and heir. They had nearly
reached their destination, when woman,
poorly clad, with a young, pinched face that
was not without certain wild beauty, and
disheveled hair, turning the corner of mar
row street, came into violent collision with
Mr.. Fanshaw. Recovering herself immedi-
ately, she brushed roughly past him and ran
at full speed down a dark passage. Mrs.
Fanshaw looked after her with some surprise,
and the next moment she and her husband
were surrounded by little crowd, headed by
two policemen in great hurry.
''Did you see woman pass just now"
asked one of them-"young and rather good
looking?" She's been robbing a jewelers.
shop, and we thought she came this way"
Eyes, yes, replied Fanshaw, eagerly, catch
ing the prevailing excitement; "she ran up
against me, not minute ago. She went
down that passage" and he pointed to the
alley where the woman had disappeared.
With hasty "thank you" the policemen
hurried in the direction indicated but they
were soon at fault again, and Fanshaw and
his wife, having followed for minute or
two, disengaged themselves from the crowd
and walked on. Arrived at the station
house, Johnny was found, his puckered face
more puckered still, crying piteously in the
corner, in dire disgrace. The nurse of the
ward, an old crone, whose temper time had
soured, pointed him out vindictively.
"Drat the child | can't do nothing with
him; that's the way he's been going on the
whole blessed morning. Nanny, nanny.
Indeed wish his mother 'ud fetch him out,
for he's no better nor nuisance here
Mrs. Fanshaw's bright eyes darted dag.
gers at the old dame as she passed her. and
in minute she had gathered little Johnny
l. llInrr