Arizona republican., 1891-06-06


 "Stick yer he'd out uv the windy and yell for 'em to come up," commanded the prostrate pitcher.
 Corkey thrust his Bulwer Lytton brow out of the window, emitting yell that caused all the members of the Red Hots to file into the room on tiptoe, wiping their mouths with their coat sleeves, and hanging their heads.
 "Hello, fellersr'
 "Hello, Timr'
 "Wot's de matter wid ye, Philly Burke? Wot are ye snivellin' for? Didn't ye ever see sick kid before2 An you, too, Patsy Carroll-why, nivir see sich weakeners as you kids before in all me life. You're a nice gang to let yourself be bluffed by them Hard Times crowd. Ye have no more sand in yer craw than a chicken. I've good notion to sick me poodle on de hull gang O ye. Cum up yere, Danger"
 The little black and tan that had re- treated under the bureau, where he kept up growing and showing his teeth at the crowd of strange visitors, jumped up on the bed and began licking his youthful masters hand. Then, turning round, he glared fiercely at the roomful of sympa- thizers, his tail flashing the bed, his little black nose uplifted defantly. He showed his teeth in subdued and dangerous snarl, as if looking out for the shins of the undertaken. All through little Tim's sickness the dog had hung around his masters room in a subdued and listless manner. When not squatting on the sick boys pillow, licking Tim's hot and feverish hand and vigilantly guarding his restless slumber, the dog would slink away under the bed, as if the boys ill- ness had affected him also, and had cowed his honest bark and native pluck into cowardly snarling and showing of his vicious teeth.
 If that dood of doctor comes anon keying around here enny more a-pizening me with the medicines he makes me swaller, we'll giv him hydrophoby- won't we, Dangers"
 Danger showed his red gums in fierce assent.
 "Where's me ould woman?"
 "Here l am, Timmy asthore; what is itY'
 "Sind out the kittle for quart O beer. wanter do the right thing and treat de gang as has called on me. 1 guess it'll be about square. Whin ye go over with the growler to Danny Shay's, Corkey, mind ye scoop in all the free lunch ye can crib. 1 guess I could go a little cheese sandwich meself. Be sure you tell Danny Shay to pack the growler as tight as he can, Corkey," was the latter part of the languid yet hospitable injunc. tion of the stricken Timmy, as he turned over on his side for a refreshing slumber, the vigilant Danger snugly perched on his fifth rib.
 Mir. Mulligan, am pleased to state, recovered in time to give the Hard Times the worst skunking they ever got.
 In that match, digging his toenails in the pitchers box, his cap cooked rakishly over his left eye, and Danger coaching lon de side' and bowling like demon when his master struck out any of the opposing batsmen, Timmy ladled out to the demoraliZed Hard Times those justly celebrated curves of his, reinforced with the famous snake shoot which he had acquired while tossing oranges on a feverish bed.
 Timmy was carried home to the Nine .teenth ward in triumph, Danger bring ing up the rear, leaving in his trail the vibrating air churned to white heat by his wagging tail.-James E. Kinsella in Chicago News.