Deseret evening news. [volume] (Great Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1867-1920, 1891-03-20
TIMMY'S RALLY.

Little Jimmy Mulligan was very sick.
Some Of his chums said m an awed
whisper. "llo Is dyin' dis time, sure
pop"
No more would His o.ycar.old wnr
whoop rcsound around tho corner. No
more would tho lake front know Jimmy,
his hare fret, and his stone BRUISES.
Never again would he occupy the pitch.
erf box and captain tho -Red Hots. do
ehampcns nv all do 9-yuar-olds on lie
wcs'-sido"--a ninc which. through Capt.
rimpys mastoriy inshoots. had attained
proud prc-~nincncc. Never again would
Jimmy rcfrcsh his jadod spirits by
throwing rocks nj the Italian on the cor
ncr, who had incurred his eninity by
once refudng him banana
Jimmy was M sturdy u yuungstcr ne
ever the west nide turned out; he was as
manly and self reliant ~ the average
Chicago e-ycar-old. Ho was the cock Of
the walk among all his oonpanions-th
best swimmer. the best fighter and tho
bs,t pitcher In the ward. The noighbor-
hood was Lonesome without Jimmy.
People could not imaginc ''what was on
tho boy" onoo ~ hearty and vigoDus.
10 keep 10 his bed.
The little invalid lay stretched ont on
his couch ~ Hat and paltd as pancake.
In tho front room away up In Sylvester
Mulligan's ton story fiat building. Tho
neighbors wco coming IN droyes W
cheer up the hiling yourgacr.
You're not goan Ia liyo mo, yer poor
ould mither. aro yc, Jimmy aahorcg"
walled his mother. rocking from side To
,ide in her frenzy Of grief. like a ship in
storm. her yoico chol1sd with grief, her
eyes drowned In toars.
"No wcrc allns dutiful child 10 me,
Jimmy alanna, and ye wud not be afthcr
lawn yer poor old milhor to fight the
wdrld alone. now VIVA yey You're tho
only boy have left, Jimmy. and yen
not lave me now afthsr ruiK.n' yo IA long
~ have. Sphakc to him, Father Muir
ply; phase do, yer iyirinco-hcll moind
You. Ho wuz allus a good hearted boy,
though trife wild. Rayson wild him,
father. The fayvor has rached his brain,
and he turns his face to tho wall from
me. Iio won't sphnko 10 me. oh, It's
heart acalded | am''
whats this | hear, Jimmy, about
your talking Of dying" oheerfully sung
out the good Father Murphy. approach
ing the bedside Of the little sufferer and
taking the boys wasted hand In his own.
"Why, you'ro worth dozen dead mon
yet | could never spare you In the
world. Who could put In your place
as monitor in the SCHOOL, Who else could
get to run my crrands and to bring me
my Evening News, chr Why, Jimmy.
my boy, you are indispensable To the
parish you're little pillar Of the
church--all by yourself. You're only
pretending TO be- dck-you who were al.
ways ~ strong aud hearty, with tho rosi-
eat cheeks aud the brightest eye Of all
the lads for squares around. Brace up,
and leave all thoughts Of dying to old
folk like your mother and myself. DO
yon hear, TimT
Tim did hear. holding his head fever
ishly upon his clammy pillow. Hisey
burned with an unnatural fire. They
had the appealing glance OF u wounded
DEER It would melt your heart but to
look at them.
The little invalid tossed uneasily upon
the bed; his curling hair, damp with
porspiration ind pain, strayed uneasily
DER the pillow his thin hands beat tho
,oyerlid with the petulanoo OF a sturdy
youngter unused to such close coniine-
ment. Yet he spoke not word
Haven't you word for your old
teacher, Tim. my boy. asked Father
Murphy, softly.
where's Corlley O'Neillg' yelled out
Jimmy suddenly, needless Of the worthy
priests entreaty. II wanter see Corhey;
bring I'm up ere immediate
Corkey was instantly produced, shuf-
fling shamefacedly across the room TO
the bedside Of his stricken comrndo.
Tins brow was knitted In meditation.
His fingers played "a tattoo ON the
blanket. He had load ON his mind ho
wanted TO dump. Turning restlessly,
he unburdened himself thus:
~ done 70 up two weeks ter day,
corkey,"
C'skas admitted tho doing up"