Milford chronicle., 1885-04-03
Friend Max
BY MARIA LOUISE POOL.


= I was standing at the desk of the
/ public library in Standish. was help
ing my sister; for it was Saturday, and
a busy day. A long line of school chill
dren had just filed down, taken their
books, and departed.
My sister, who was librarian, was
busy far-off at a bookshelf. For a mo-
ment the room seemed deserted, and 1
had again opened a novel which I was
surrepitiously reading.
A voice, its owner invisible, piped up
just below the opening for passing in
books.
"Please," it said, 81 want a good
book for woman of forty"
At this point I saw the tips of four
grimy fingers on the ledge, and the top
of head came in sight.
l leaned over, and saw that a small
boy was trying to pull himself up so
that he might be seen. He showed up a
very dirty library card, and I took it,
asking:
"What kind of book do you mean ?
A story, or travels, or history p
"a good book for a woman of forty, "
he repeated. "She said you'd know. "
I turned away and walked down by
the tiers of volumes.
"What kind of books do women of
forty usually read?" 1 inquired.
"Oh! give out something cheering r.
was the reply. "They need it."
When / had charged Little Women, "
/ went to the delivery window, where
the child was now waiting.
His face looked ten years old, but his
size only indicated seven or eight.
He reached out one hand and took the
book; while the other hand doubled
into a fist, was knocking his eye, and
his mouth was distorted into that indie
scribable hideousness produced by cry
ing.
His whole appearance was so unutter-
ably forlorn, that I asked quickly:
"What is it troubles you?"
"They are goin' to drown'd him 7"
was the reply. The mere act of saying
those words destroyed what self-posses-
son he had, and he burst out into a
vociierous weeping and sobbing.
was quite alarmed.
"Who's going to be drowned?" It
and then he said:
MAX I" with explosion, and fell into
greater lamentation than before.
went round in front of the counter
for people were now coming in.
In that first moment l made no doubt
but that Max was some obnoxious in
FAINT, whom somebody had, in silly joke,
threatened to remove by means of
water.
1 took hold of the boys arm and led
him into a corner. His grief was so
open and so unmistakably sincere, that
l began to feel very much like bowling
in sympathy.
"No, they won't drown him, either"
1 said. "They are only frightening
you"
I Learned then, if I never did before,
that if you want to drown a Guilds tears,
you must not sympathize with him.
At this stage my sister leaned over
the counter and said, firmly:
"You must either induce that child to
stop that awful roar or you must put
him out"
Her remark was so Just that 1 imme-
dlately proceeded 10 act upon the latter
part of 1t, knowing the impossibility of
success in any attempt to put into effec.
the first clause.
1 walked the boy ont to the piazza
and shut the door behind me.
'You must not believe everything
everyone tells you," I said, hastily, not
thinking what a lesson in suspicion
was teaching. "Why do they want to
kill Max ?"
"Father says he'll run mad"
''He's a dog, then2'
''Yes, ma'am, a dog and he's mine.
He amt mad, neither
Increase Of tears and noise.
"Perhaps it is your father who is
mad" ! suggested, thinking nothing