The morning call., 1891-04-20
LITTLE JOHNNIE.
Death Came Suddenly. and 1t Was OF

Dealn Name II w hs oh
That Account Harder to Bear.
1t was almost midnight when he came
slowly up the three flights Of stairs leading
to the editorial rooms and knocked timidly
at the door.
Come in" called out the city editor,
without looking up from his writing.
He came in slowly, a tall middle-aged
man, too thinly clad for such a cold and
stormy night. His wrists and hard bony
hands showed red aud bare beneath the
sleeves of his thin and ragged old coat. He
had an honest but Ignorant face and an
awkward, embarrassed air. he pulled off
his OLD hat and held 1t In both his hands.
while he asked:
us it too late to git little notice put into
the paper tonight. misterY'
mo; guess not" replied the reporter.
Got it written?"
No, | hain't. /"
You'll find a pad Of paper and pencil
on that table there"
he pointed to a table near his own desk
and the man sat down before it. He took
the pencil between his stitfened fingers, bit
at the end of it while in meditation, drew
the pad of PAPER toward him and began to
write.
But he made slow and seemingly painful
work Of it. He crossed out word here and
there and his hand trembled strangely.
Once he furtivey drew his ragged sleeve
across his eyes. Then he turned to the ed
itor and said In tone of troubled hesitation
and appeal:
"I-l-don't want to trouble you none,
sir, but LIANT used to writin' an never
could spell good. If yOu-you-had time TO
-to-write the notice for me I'd try to pay
YOU what you think it'd be wuth."
Something in the mans tone and manner
touched the editors heart, and busy as he
was he said:
'Pll write it for you If there isn't too much
of it,"
"Only three or four lines, sir"
"Oh, notice of a meeting. perhaps, or
something of that sort"
mo, sir; notice Of IA" the mans
voice died away to a whisper, his chin
dropped on his swelling chest, his whole
frame trembled as he said, "a notice OF "a
DEATH
Il am very sorry" said the editor kindly
and with genuine sympathy. What is the
name?"
Johnnie we never called him anything
else. He was named john after me, but
I'd rather have it printed Johnnie
"When did he dep"
"This evening, sir. 1t is very sudden and
it comes harder on that account, though God
knows it would be hard enough il we'd
been expectin' it. Such things never comes
easy to them that loves their children. and
IL"
He held his faded old hat before his face
LOT ulOIleub
"How old was hep" asked the editor,
glancing with misty eyes at a photograph
in a little red plush frame on his desk, the
photograph of handsome, bright-eyed little
bov with thick curls and a smiling face.
-Four years aud six months to day, sir,
and our only one. That makes it seem still
harder. His mothers bout heart-broken
and I-I-well it's turrible hard to sit and
watch little life like that go cut and to
think of what the home will be without it.
You got children, sirP"
The editor pointed toward the photograph
and said:
This Is my little boy"
"Hes a sweet-lOokin' little Teller. hore
he'll be spared to you. We've got good
photograph of Johnnie. That's one CON-
fort Now, how much will 1t be for writin'
and printin' the notice?"
Nothing az ALL"
ono? Well, I'm a thousand times obliged,
and f-I-hope nobody'll ever have to write
such notice for You bout that little boy of
yours"
He wiped his eyes with handkerchief
wet with his tears, and went down the
stairs as slowly as be had come up and back
TO his poor, little, desolate home to walk
softly with bowed head In the presence of
death, and 10 try to comfort his bruised
heart with the thought that the dear little
boy had gone TO join the hosts Of heaven
Detroit Free Press.